Contrast
by Frigonfic
Summary: He remembered when everyone forgot; the one holding them together as the Capitol chipped away all they had. Life isn't so different from death, he realized, when you're living in a world like this. Prologue sub-story to 'The Girl Who Set the Spark'.
1. Normal

Thanks for clicking & reading!

Well, if you didn't know, this is a prologue sub-story to the 'Girl Who Set the Spark'. I advise that you read the whole 'The Girl Who Set the Spark' series/sub-stories first, mainly because there may be a few things that are explained in that series that will probably not be explained in this sub-story. But of course, that is only my suggestion. Feel free to read what you want when you want to!

And if you didn't know, or if you forgot, most of the sub-story will be told from Enkol's point of view, for those of you who know who is from the other sub-stories (see what I mean by reading those ones first?). There probably will be a few chapters told in Finnick's point of view, but those will be coming later.

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

It's all a blur to me now.

The small things, the tiny details are so sharp, clear as day. But the surroundings, the large figures, they are all hazy. Unfocused. It is strange, seeing my life in this perspective.

Anxol's white-blonde tresses. Donnie's bright beam. My father's callused hands. My mother's almond-shaped eyes. They are all so clear as everything else darkens.

I pray that they will stay with me until the very end.

**.**

In the start, everything was white. A beautiful, brilliant, dazzling pure white.

How quickly our world darkens.

But in the beginning, everything was as pure as snow. As bright as heaven itself. And I let myself believe that yes, this is the place where I will grow up, and this is the place where I will die. I wouldn't have it any other way. This place was my home.

The narrow streets were all too familiar, knowing every single patch of ice. The woodsy scent of our home, logs burning in the fireplace as the candles flickered merrily. The crisp air that blew in a continual pattern, making our fair wisps of hair dance in the wind.

I knew it all.

And I thought that this was all I ever had to know. I was a woodcutter, and a good one at that. My father was a hunter, my mother a seamstress, my sister a cook. Our family worked in harmony; my father bringing meat and pelts to my sister to cook and for my mother to sew. I brought wood to fuel the ovens and to keep the house warm. My mother made coats, sweaters, jumpers, that kept us warm even on the coldest of nights. My sister made delicious food for us all to keep us going, to keep us fed. We kept each other alive.

No, we never minded hard work. Because hard work was essential in our little town, and without hard work, we would all be dead by the time the harsh winters blew over.

We knew everybody in the small town. There were only fifteen families, houses huddled together as if we could pass each other warmth through the cold stone walls. We all knew each other so well, all friends. We could laugh and joke and tease, and we provided for them while they provided for us.

We all had different jobs that kept us alive. Cobbler. Candle maker. Teacher. Medicine man. Farmer. Between the twenty-three of us living in that small town, we all had different jobs that kept our society alive. Kept each other alive. But no, we didn't think of it as that. We enjoyed what we did, and we took pleasure in sharing our talents with each other. No, it wasn't survival. It was life.

And things were okay.

But then, the great wave came.

**.**

It was barely noticeable at first. If it wasn't for Anxol, we might not have even noticed it at all.

"The ocean is coming, Enkol. The ocean is coming." She whispered, her pale grey eyes dreamy yet holding all the seriousness in the world.

I didn't believe her at first, I remember; we were kids at the time, only seven years old. I can't even imagine ever being seven years old. It seemed so long ago.

But she was right.

Anxol, who I knew so much, who shared the same face as me and knew me better than anybody else in the world, spoke the truth that later lead to our fate.

I learned to trust Anxol. I learned to believe her, because she saw things I didn't. She saw things that nobody else could see; we were all so busy with the things around us, seeing what was only in front of us. But no, Anxol, even at the age of seven, she saw past all of that. She was right, I knew, but I didn't want to believe her because then I knew the outcome of our fate.

"No, it's not. You're lying, Anxol." I remember yelling at her. "You're a liar and you're crazy!"

I ran away, not even courageous enough to stare back into the perceiving eyes that were identical to my own, yet saw all the things that I couldn't.

The ocean sounded louder that night.

**.**

Our parents always cautioned us to stay away from the roaring ocean waves. Only the fisher, whose name I am sorry that I cannot remember, was allowed to go to the unruly waves. Our small village was set a few hundred meters away from it; close enough to get the things the ocean provided but far enough to avoid the hazards of the untamed waters.

But Anxol somehow, could balance on the perilous rocks that lined the raging surf. She walked, barefoot, on the sharp rocks that fell into the unforgiving ocean.

She used to sleepwalk. I was the only one who knew, and even she did not know herself. She would walk out to the sea and I would follow her. Something was pulling her to the ocean, almost as if she was drawn by a magnet. I would hold her hand and guide her gently back to our house to sleep on our bed.

I never told my parents. I never even told her. I thought it was because I wished not to share this special secret that only I knew, but now, I know it was out of fear. I was afraid of admitting that every night, my twin sister saw something through her closed eyes that I could not see.

Anxol told our father about the coming ocean.

"Right you are, my little snowflake. I'll build a boat for all of us, and we'll sail away before the sea eats us up."

Anxol smiled her soft, distant smile and simply fluttered to the kitchen to make some fish stew.

"The ocean isn't really coming, is it papa? It won't swallow us up, now would it?" I asked my father, who stood twice my size, looming over me but as friendly and kind as can be.

"Now, now, little Enkol." He ruffled my white-blonde hair, down on one knee to look into my eyes. "We must listen to your sister."

"But she can't see the ocean coming! She's lying!" I shouted, even though the walls were thin and Anxol was just in the next room. "She sees all these fake things! The ocean isn't going to eat us up!"  
My papa only looked at me with his pale blue eyes, so often twinkling with happiness - but in that moment, his eyes held something that I could never distinguish.

"Enkol, there are people who can see things that others cannot. And then there are people who can do what others cannot. Both must work in harmony to live well, yes?"

"Yes, papa."

And then my father smiled a sad little smile, ruffled my hair one last time and walked away without another word.

**.**

My papa stood true to his word.

He began building a boat the very next day.

We gathered more wood and hunted more animals. We burned ores and made metal scraps, and my father built a boat.

My mother sewed and sewed while my twin sister cooked, humming faintly as she did.

The other families laughed at us, calling us crazy. And every time they did, I would turn to Anxol pointedly and glare at her, because it was _her _that was crazy and she was making mama and papa crazy too.

It took my papa a good half a year to build a boat, just a small boat that had three rooms in it. Three small rooms that were stacked on top of each other, like the fish that we hauled in.

It wasn't very large, and barely even furnished. And though my father was not the builder in our little village, he worked quickly and swiftly, his every move sure and confidant. When I asked him how he learned how to make a boat, he would only smile his sad little smile and say that his own papa taught him how.

We never knew our grandmama and grandpapa. We had a few grandmamas and grandpapas in the town, but they were always in their beds, never moving. Quite dull, I thought back then. But my parents never spoke of their own parents - only that they were not here anymore.

So for the six months my papa built his boat, we lived like we normally did.

But I knew then, as soon as Anxol brought up the nearing ocean, that the days of normalcy were long over.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I apologize in advance if a few future chapters are strange/awkward. It is really weird to be writing in Enkol's POV, after writing for so long in Anxol's POV. And it's strange as well, writing Anxol before all that happened to her. So if anything sounds off/strange, I'm sorry!

And it's strange to be writing a Hunger Games story that takes place not in Panem. But don't worry about that, it will be moved to Panem eventually.

So apart from all the weirdness, what did you think about the chapter? Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter, as per usual, will be posted up tomorrow!


	2. Survive

Thanks for clicking & reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Silence is unbearable.

This, I always knew. Silence holds the truth, and more often than not, the truth is not what we want to hear. I hated silence, and I always felt the need to cover it up with some chatter.

Fear, this is what it was. What it is. Fear of confrontation, fear of knowing the future. Cowardice, by trying to run away and avoid it by filling up the air with meaningless words.

Anxol always liked the silence.

I never understood why she did; didn't the silence just _scream _too loudly? I didn't understand. Why would she want to hear the bitter truth? I suppose that it was because she already saw the truth. Hearing it would be no different. In some ways, I am stronger than Anxol. Physical strength that everyone comments on, compares. But in other ways, Anxol is stronger than I. A quiet strength that has an invisible barrier that no one can break through.

We were opposites. Physical and mental. Loud and quiet. Sharp and soft.

She liked the silence.

I liked the noise.

In life, we don't get to pick what comes our way; whether it will be to our liking or not. What happens, happens; and if you don't like it, you deal with it.

But in death, it's quite the same. You don't really have a say in anything whatsoever, no consideration for your preference after all that you've been dealt in your life.

In death, it is all too silent.

**.**

After papa was done building the boat, it almost seemed as if he completely forgot about it. It was never mentioned. He never even looked at it, despite the fact it sat right behind our small stone house. And I believed that papa built the boat only to please Anxol and nothing more, for it seemed as if the whole incident with boat seemed to have disappeared.

But I assumed wrong.

Two months after papa finished building the boat, the ocean was noticeably closer to our little town. Paths that we used were now cover by the icy waves, and they were inching dangerously towards our little settlement. The snow that used to fall at least once a week became rain that dropped every other day. Every other day became every day. Every day became every hour. Every hour became every minute. The rain did not stop, and it pounded on our small stone homes like a monster clawing its way in.

Three months after the completion of the boat, the ocean was lapping the edges of our houses. The stone was painted with water, and in the night, the icy waves were unforgivable. Staying late to play was no longer an option, unless one wanted to freeze or get hypothermia. The waves slapped against the stone of our house, and it became a haunting lullaby that kept us all awake.

And with every day, my heart fell a little more. Because when I looked out the window every morning, the blue inched closer and closer. And my hopes and dreams of staying here and dying in this snowy white world were slowly being swallowed by the nearing ocean.

And then it came to the point where I would look out window and there would be nothing but raging ocean, endless; drops of rain for every second of the day.

It was time to move.

.

As soon as the ocean surrounded our little stone houses, papa lead us all to the little boat. He and mama scrambled for things in our house; a picture hanging on the wall, a pocket watch on the table, a stuffed animal in the attic. Food from the cellar, a few dog-eared books from the shelves, thick swathes of clothing from the closets, blankets and pillows from our rooms. Our parents gathered everything they needed, nothing too large, and hauled it all onto the boat. Anxol and I watched, standing on the edge of the boat, watching with wide eyes.

The water was swaying the boat gently, back and forth, rocking the boat slightly. When mama and papa were done stocking everything they needed, my papa hacked away the rope tying the boat to our house with one quick _swish _of his hunter's knife.

And the ocean began carrying us away.

**.**

As the waves began to rock us away from our homes, our neighbours came out to try and call us back.

_The ocean will recede. This is merely temporary, Sylvei. The waters do this every year; the weather has only been a little more heightened this year. The ocean will return back to its lines in a few more days; it has to get worse before it gets better. Think about it, Askell - all the fish that will come after this mere wave. Your family will be fed for months! Get off the tiny floating log you call a boat, Askell. Look at your children and Sylvei; you will not last a day._

They all shouted and yelled, coming out of the safety of their homes to try and call us back. They trudged through the violent icy waves, but they were carried back before they could reach the little makeshift boat. Only their voices reached us; a last fragment of our old lives, our old friends, before we parted.

My mama and my papa stared out to the distance with misty eyes, in the direction of the voices of our friends. Their voices became more and more distant as we drifted away. The little stone houses and the familiar landmarks; a stretching willow, the peak of a mountain - they all disappeared on the horizon, behind the rain, behind the ocean.

After our little village disappeared, my papa lead us into the little rooms that he built himself. We turned away from the place that we used to know, the life that we used to call ordinary, and faced the unknowns that lay before us.

**.**

I always faced things head-on. The past is the past, and what lays behind us is not important. It is who we are now, at this moment, that counts. Move forward without looking back.

This is the tactic that I followed my whole life. Perhaps it was because I had too good of a memory, they told me. My father always said that I remembered every little detail of everything, every event. Sometimes I want to escape what I remember, and look head-on to the future in hopes that my past will disappear along the way.

And it worked. For the past six years, I've been looking forward without a single glance back. Move on, and you will forget. In time, the details of my old life began to disappear, dissolve. They began to fade until I only had mere wisps of it left; only the main plot of the story still intact. My past left me, and the future surrounded me.

And now, at the end, I regret never looking back. Because now everything is blurry, faded, disfigured. Now, in the end, when the only thing I can look forward to is darkness and emptiness, I turn to my past. Turn to the colors of my life that will brighten up this darkening end.

But I had made my choice a long time ago to let my past go. To leave nothing but threads of my childhood intact. And now, when I want to look back, there is nothing left but hazy colors.

Remembering can be a curse. But at times like these, it can also be a gift.

One that I refused before I knew what its true worth was.

**.**

We slept, ate, and cooked in one room. Anxol and I would huddle in the corner, next to the small fire pit, seeking warmth from the dying embers and from each other. Our parents would curl up next to each other on the opposite side of the room, whispering to each other into the late hours of the night.

Sometimes, I heard my mother crying. While Anxol's breathing was deep, I was restless. I could hear the quiet sniffles of my mother, and the soft murmur from my father as he tried to comfort her.

_We will get through this, my gem. This is what will be best for all of us. Do not worry, Sylvei, we will get through this together. As a family. _

And I remembered thinking about the place we left for many sleepless nights. The flickering candlelight on the table. Sliding around on the frozen pond. The serene silence of the forest. The bountiful stars that gleamed at night. The stones on the walls, the wood on the floors, the metal of the pipes. The snowflakes, the wind, the snow, the icicles. Every night, I would stay up late at night, pondering about the life I used to have. The life that I left unwillingly.

That was when I still looked back.

I used to try to hold on to my old life. I would spend my nights trying to conjure up the faces that I knew, the places that I knew. I spent hours trying to remember the slightest detail about every single thing, every single person. Almost as if I could remember everything enough, then they would be real.

But no, we left our home. There was no place in this world that is our home anymore; not the rooms in our boat, not the apartment that we rented, not the grey building we built. Our home was at the bottom of the sea, where our friends and neighbours waited for us patiently to return, one by one.

**.**

Though small, there was much to do on the boat. For endless hours, my father would steer the ship with the paddles he fixed onto the side of the boat. When I asked him where we were going, he only answered, _safety, _ with that small sad smile that seemed to have permanently replaced his easygoing grin.

My mama would cook and clean; tidying up the little rooms, categorizing the food and clothing that we had, carefully rationing all that we had. When she was finished, she would stand at the edge of the boat and cast out a pole connected to some string and a hook, sitting for what seemed like hours. I had only seen that strange contraption a few times in my life, only when the fisher passed by our house with some fish to deliver. I never knew my mother was a fisher herself. She was a seamstress.

Anxol and I would have to empty out the water on the boat. It rained constantly; while we slept, while we ate, while we were awake. The rooms were protected by its metal walls, but the deck - that's what my papa called it - was always in danger of flooding with the endless rain. Anxol and I had the job of using the largest bowls to scoop out the saltwater on the deck back to the water. It was a tedious task, but we both knew the consequences of letting the rain flood the boat.

The waves rocked and swayed us, and the world seemed to tilt at a different angle every single. I would wobble and stumble, teetering over one side at one second and swaying to the other side the next. My mama was quite like myself, shifting constantly to avoid falling into the murky sea. However, my father and Anxol were as steady as rocks, almost as if we were on flat ground.

We still kept each other alive. Our papa kept us moving, our mama provided further rations, and Anxol and I kept us all afloat.

We all had different jobs that kept us all living. But this time, it was no longer sharing our talents. It was not doing a job that was more like recreation to us.

It was survival.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Ah, yes, I know. Some parts might be a bit weird for the next few chapters about the boat and the rain and everything, but just use your imagination a little. Hopefully it's somewhat realistic, because that's what I'm aiming for.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	3. Depend

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

We all had secrets.

Every single one of us has something that we keep hidden to ourselves, whether it be a fact, an event, or a memory. We all had a little something that we guard, protect, something that only we know; something that only we ourselves can treasure.

Some secrets hurt. Some secrets kill. Some secrets save, and others harm. Some protect others, and some can lead only to danger. Whatever the intention of the secret is, it will lead to path that you, and only you can choose to go down. It is up to you to decide whether or not you wish to walk down the path that your secret unravels.

And though all secrets are universally different, they all hold one thing in common.

You have to lie to protect it.

**.**

My parents, I realized on our time at the boat, had many secrets. Such as, how did my father know how to build, when he was a hunter? How did my mother fish when she was seamstress? Why did they suddenly decide to leave when we had everything we already needed?

I was silly back then. I didn't understand. But of course, how could I? I was only eight years old when we set sail, and I was stubborn. I was unwilling to face the truth, therefore unwilling to understand it.

Anxol and I had our secrets, too. Things we never told anyone, and some we didn't even tell each other. Though we shared the same face, the same genetics; though we shared almost everything, secrets were one thing we never shared with each other. Of course, some we had together, a twin joke that no one understood. But most, we kept to ourselves.

I didn't tell her about her midnight ventures, and she never told me about what she saw through her eyes.

But as children, we were obviously curious. Naturally curious. We both knew our whole lives that we had one job, and one job alone for the rest of our lives. One task that we were called to do, that would keep us alive.

So how was it that our parents knew more than what they were told to do?

Anxol and I pestered them for many days and many nights; for when you're on a boat with the same people for endless days, there is not much to do. Hauling bowls of water off the side of the boat was tiresome and boring, and there was only so many times you could do inventory.

Thirteen days after we left our home, our mama and papa sat down and told us something that I never forgot.

We were sitting in our little kitchen, which was basically the room with the fire pit and pots. There was little to no furniture on the boat, only what was absolutely necessary. A few pots and pans, one set of cutlery for one person, and a crate filled with the little trinkets from home, which sat in the corner of the room. Most of the boat's space was taken up by supplies - fresh water, food, firewood, matches, medicine. I marked the days with a small etching on the wall with my blade.

We gathered around the fire pit, where the flames were slowly dying out.

"Mama, papa, how did you learn how to build and fish if you are the hunter and the seamstress?" Anxol asked sweetly, just like we planned. I followed with the puppy-dog eyes that I rehearsed, with Anxol's approval that it was completely heart-melting.

Our parents shared a glance and a knowing smile with each other across the fire. Anxol nodded faintly to me, eyes flashing with delight and deviousness. Then, in unison, Anxol and I turned to our parents and said in our sweetest voices, "Please?"

Papa chuckled and mama smiled, and it was easy to forget that we were in the middle of the ocean, away from all that we knew.

"Well, my little identical snowflakes, there is something you must learn in this life." Papa began, all seriousness though his eyes danced with amusement. "And it is not the one job that you are assigned to do."

Anxol and I shared a confused glance.

"What your papa means," mama scooped us into a warm hug, "is that there is more to life than just doing one job."

"But mama, don't we all need one job to keep us all alive?" Anxol inquired, grey eyes wide.

"I don't understand. We're supposed to do our one job so that everyone will be happy." I wondered out loud.

"Ah, my dearest children, you are correct." Papa ruffled our hair, and we both scrunched our noses in unison. "We do indeed need to perform our tasks to keep our family function."

"Should we tell them, Askell?" Mama cast a worried look to papa. "They're still so young."

"I raised my children to be wise people, Sylvei. We planned that out a long time ago." Our father spoke in a rumbling voice. "The earlier they learn this, the better off they will be."

"Will you explain to us, papa?" Anxol curled up onto our father's lap, like a kitten. I cuddled closer to my mother's warm embrace, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent that seemed to follow her everywhere.

"My children, we should not be doing only one job in our lives. We should be able to do many things with our lives, not only the single task that we know. We should be able to have many skills and talents that we master in our lives, not just one skill." Papa said, the last sparks of the fire reflecting in his eyes. "We shouldn't just rely on others to keep us alive. We should be able to learn how to survive by ourselves."

"But we'll always be with each other, right, papa?" I turned to look at him, daring to hope that my papa will say the answer I need to hear. "Right, mama?"

They were silent for a second too long.

"Of course we will."

**.**

That was the main thing I remembered about my parents. About our family, before it was shattered.

_We should be able to know how to survive on our own._

The prospect of it scared me for a long time; our parents would always be there to protect us, wouldn't they? Provide for us. Care for us. Love us.

But now, I knew better. People were ripped away from you sooner than you'd think. Sooner than you'd expect. Sooner than you'd like.

We had to learn how to survive on our own sooner than we would've thought.

Papa and mama said that we had to master more than one trade to keep us alive. We shouldn't depend on others to survive, and that we ourselves should be our most reliable source for our survival. We shouldn't be doing one job, one thing, one skill, one trade for our whole lives.

Because then we only know one thing.

Then we depend on another source for our needs.

And that makes us helpless, because then we only have one puzzle piece to the picture of surviving. Then we only know thing and one thing only; and being forced to do anything besides that one skill could break us. Kill us. Because we know nothing else. We become fools when we are pushed to do one trade, left vulnerable when we are put in a different situation. Left hungry when our link to our other needs are cut.

Our life in that white world was like that. If we ever broke away, then we would not have each other to keep us alive, because we didn't know their jobs.

We had to learn how to survive on our own, our parents preached. Learn how to master the trades that will keep us alive. Know everything we can about this world, because knowledge is power, and without it, we are nothing but helpless followers.

If only they knew then that the world that we left behind was no different for the land we were about to enter.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Just as a little heads up, in this story there will be time skips. For most parts, it will mention how much time has passed between the chapters, but if any parts seem disconnected from the last chapter, this is just to let you know. Time will be skipping; I can't write every single moment of Enkol's life from the age of seven to fourteen. I'll just be doing the more important events and a few fluff chapters thrown in between to brighten up the mood or something.

And - just as a random note - I was wondering, how old do I seem like based on my writing? A friend of mine just brought up that my writing style was weird that made me sound older. So now, I'm all curious. You don't have to answer, of course, but it's just a question thrown out there.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter, as usual, will be up tomorrow!


	4. Equation

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games trilogy.**

* * *

Anxol cried at night, long after our parents were asleep.

She would sleepwalk out our little room, and out onto the deck. She would face away from the land we left and stare through her closed eyes into the land on the other side of the world.

I would wake her up, and her pale grey eyes would be dazed, glassy, before focusing on the surroundings, realizing where she was.

And she would stare at me, eyes haunted. Her eyes would be glossy with tears, and they would leak out of the corners of her eyes like the raindrops that never stopped falling.

I would envelop her into a large hug - as large of a hug that an eight year old could give, anyways - and hold her close. I was older than her by barely two minutes, and yet sometimes I felt she was a thousand years older. But she was always my Anxol, my little twin sister that would seek comfort in my arms.

She would cry into my shoulder, and I would lead her back to the kitchen where our parents lay asleep when her tears began to recede. We would go to sleep, and she would curl up a little closer to me than usual.

And I never questioned her about it. It was just a twin connection, where I knew there were no need for words to explain one another.

**.**

"It's so sad, Enkol."

"What's so sad, Anxol?"

Anxol and I spent all of our days together, while our papa painstakingly rowed the boat and our mama toiled over the meager possessions we owned. We would play silly games, hopping around the boat or hiding inside crates; playing with toys or reading books aloud to each other. But we rarely just sat down and talked to each other.

"Everything's sad, Enkol." Anxol answered, a sad smile on her lips.

"I don't understand."

"Do you dream at night, Enkol?" She quickly changed the subject, even though she was the one to have brought it up.

"Of course I do." I answered, looking at Anxol. She was staring off to the distance of the horizon.

Ever since the skies began clearing up, Anxol and I no longer had to haul saltwater off the deck of the boat. Instead of a raging dark grey, the clouds were a misty grey. We had been sailing for twenty-three days now. As children, we weren't as bored - everything was interesting, and games could always be invented out of thin air. Anxol and I no longer had a job, and we were now allowed on the deck to play.

"What do you dream about?" Anxol asked me, her grey eyes meeting mine; silver in the weak sunlight.

"I don't know. About our friends. The forest. The pond. Anything, really." I answered once again, used to her strange questions.

"That's not about anything, Enkol. You dream about home." She turns to me with a hint of a smile on her face.

"You don't?" I counter back, already defensive.

"I dream about tomorrow." Anxol turns to the horizon again, though I saw nothing interesting there. Dull grey clouds and blue waves. They have been all I saw for the past twenty-three days.

"Tomorrow is the same as today. And yesterday. And the day before. All the tomorrows are the same, Anxol. There's nothing to dream about." I pointed out.

"But what happens when we reach land, Enkol?" She asks me. "What happens when one tomorrow later, we go to a new life? That's what I dream about. The tomorrow that becomes the rest of our lives. The place that we will have to call home."

"Anxol! Home was where we left! What we left behind. _That _was our home. Nowhere else will be home."

"Not home, then. Our new residence. The land that we will stay at." She says simply. "Don't you ever dream about that? Or even wonder about it?'

I shake my head. "But you?"

Anxol nods, the soft winds threading through her wavy white-blonde tresses. They were covered in dirt and grime after so many days without washing; her hair almost looked like a ashy blonde instead. I'm sure I looked the same. We were identical twins after all.

"I think the land is sad." She toys with the hem of her threadbare shirt. "The people are unhappy."

"Why do you think that? What do you see?" This was the first time I ever asked her about what she saw in her sleep, and though I tried to keep myself contained, I was still eager to know.

"I see... people crying. Lots of crying. People screaming and people scared." She whispers, almost to herself rather than to me. "I see blood."

"Blood?" I asked incredulously.

She gives me an annoyed look.

"Yes, Enkol. Blood." Anxol said a matter-of-factly. "Like after papa kills an animal."

I could vaguely remember papa always bringing in game for Anxol to cook into a meal. Of course, she already knew what blood looked like.

"But they're just dreams, aren't they?" I asked her urgently, not wanting to land at a place filled with blood. "They're not real, right?"

"I thought the ocean eating us was a dream, you know." She said softly. "They all seem so real, Enkol. And so sad. It makes me sad, too."

I only gave her another hug, the only comfort I could give her.

My father previously said that people who saw things other could not and people who did things other could not had to work in harmony to live. And our parents said that we needed to learn how to survive.

Anxol saw things others could not. And Anxol and I were practically one person; we rarely left each other's side.

So by logic - even though it was eight-year-old logic, it still made sense - in order for Anxol and I to survive, I needed to be able to do things others could not.

The day Anxol told me what she saw in her dreams was the day I decided to do all the things that she could not, so that if we ever needed something, at least I could provide some sort of assistance.

It was an equation, already set out.

The only thing missing was the part that I knew I had to step into.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Sorry for the short chapter - just some minor writer's block right now. And a bit sleep deprived and lethargic. Argh. Sorry again - it's going to bug me all night about how short and terrible this chapter was.

I tried to incorporate some of Enkol's eight-year-old logic in this chapter, near the end - and I'm not too sure if I was successful or not in explaining it, or even making any sense. Sorry about that. I wasn't too sure where I was going with it, but I'm pretty sure it'll be incorporated in further chapters. Sorry again if it's complete crazy talk.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review! Thank you so much to all who have reviewed already!

Next chapter will be up tomorrow!


	5. Land

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Thirty-four days after we sailed away from our home, we saw land.

It was at dusk, and I saw it first. Papa was rowing, tired, with large black circles underneath his eyes and hairs growing around his chin and jaw. Mama and Anxol were inside preparing dinner, our food supplies getting low. Mama could only catch a few fishes a day, and that's if she was lucky. We've been reducing the amount of freshwater we were using, along with food. According to mama, we only had enough food to last us another two more weeks.

I was scared to imagine going for days with no more food and only endless seas. Already, we've barely been eating enough, trying to ration our food. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and I was sure I was imagining land.

If it weren't for the soft pale oranges and faint outlines of purple in the sky, I would have definitely mistaken it for clouds. Everything was grey, a drab, dull grey like the clouds that hovered around us for so many weeks. Colours seemed like foreign thing to me.

"Papa! Papa! I think I see land!"

Our father immediately sat up from the little seat in between the two oars and rushed over to my side. I pointed to the mass of grey land, holding my breath, hoping that my father would say it was land and not another cluster of clouds.

"You're right, my boy. Land." He said, dazed. Then he turned around to the rooms and boomed out, "Land! Land! Sylvei, land! Bring Anxol here!"

Anxol quickly bounded out; I could just feel her presence behind me though I kept my eyes on the nearing dark grey land. I heard our mama coming out seconds later.

"Is it true, Askell? Is it really land?"  
All four of us simply stood on the deck, leaning past the edges of the boat, almost as if we could touch the place itself. The boat swayed and tipped with all of our weight on one side.

My father broke the spell first. He rushed back to the oars and began paddling furiously towards the cluster of grey buildings.

"Enkol, I want you to tell me the exact directions of the land. Whether we are going too far to the right, and how close we are to the shores." He boomed out instructions, the head of the family guiding us to safety. "Sylvei, pack everything up. Anxol, look at both sides of the boat and if you see anything, tell me immediately."

Everyone quickly rushed to their assigned jobs.

"A little to the left...back to the right. I think we'll be there in another hour or so; it's really tiny right now."

Anxol skipped from side to side of the ship, occasionally chirping, "There's nothing here!"  
Inside the rooms, I could hear mama bustling around, packing up all the crates.

But then dusk quickly disappeared, the sun fully disappearing. We were surrounded by darkness, and the grey land rapidly disappeared underneath the folds of the shadows.

"Sylvei, bring out the last candles! Take out the lanterns!" Papa shouted. We couldn't lose sight of the land now, not when the ocean could so easily pull us off course by the time light returned.

Our mother swiftly appeared with three iron lanterns connected to a short pole, and three wax candles - the last we had, since we used up most of ours in the first three weeks. We used to keep two lanterns glowing at night, but since wax candles were hard to come by back in our village, we didn't have many to start with and we quickly only had a few left. For emergencies like these.

Anxol slipped the candles into the lanterns and handed one to me, keeping one to herself. I quickly accepted it and held out the pole as far as I could, searching for the little blob of grey land in the darkness.

Anxol and mama paced around the boat, each holding out a lantern that casted out a haunting glow in the darkness of the sea. Papa kept rowing, eyes darting around for any signs of land, almost as if he was a bobcat that lived in the mountains, hunting in the dark.

Finally, I saw the faintest outline of the land.

"I see it! We're a bit too far to the left now, row a bit to the right." I called out to papa.

And so it went, for the next hour or so. I called out directions, papa rowed furiously, and mama and Anxol paced around, looking for any other signs of boats that could be near this civilization.

The land came closer and closer, slowly, inching towards us. It began looming over us, a hundred times bigger than our little stone home. We all looked up, mouths agape at these large buildings and smoke rising out some of them, almost as if they had hundreds of fire lit underneath them.

One hundred meters became ten meters. As we drew closer, we saw people, stopping and gawking at us, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. We stared at them in the same manner, both groups of people staring at the other as if we were aliens. And we might have been to them, as they were to us.

The dim light of our lanterns were nothing compared to the almost blinding light that were inside these buildings. It almost seemed as if these buildings held a little bit of the sun inside of them.

The boat finally rested to a stop, bumping slightly on the jagged rock that had metal bars on top of them, like restraints for the people from leaving.

All four of us stood up shakily, trying to take in this strange, new land, with these strange, new people staring at us, the group now a crowd.

We have reached our new residence.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Oh my gosh, so, so, so, sorry for the short chapter. Last chapter was so terrible and short and this chapter was so terrible and shot, and argh- I'm so sorry. Sorry. I feel really bad. Promise the chapters will be better, hopefully.

Anyways, sorry again.

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	6. Unknowing

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

I always believed that I would die in that white world.

It was preferable. White all around us, soft and glowing, as we ascended to the next life. The place was heaven itself, and death was simply a transition there.

But white faded into grey when the clouds and ocean swallowed up the home I used to know, and the grey became darker and darker as we neared the land. The new land itself was already a dark steel grey, and I wondered how long it was until everything turned black - the very end.

Perhaps life was simply just fading from white to black.

I wanted to die in the white world, because death there isn't really death - it's a hope and it's a temporary farewell; we'll see each other again.

But no, my death is in this spiralling black world, where death was nothing but goodbyes and pain.

**.**

The people quickly pulled us out of our little boat, and onto dry land. We were all unsteady and wobbly on the ground, unused to the ground being so _unmoving _ after so long on the rocking waves.

They silently herded us to a large building, muttering underneath their breaths, speaking about things I did not understand at the time.

Mama and papa almost collapsed from exhaustion, and I wondered how I never noticed how worn out they were, big hoops of black underneath their eyes.

We sat down on these strange cushioned chairs, and it felt like I was sitting on a pillow instead of a chair. Inside the building, it was bright - too bright, almost - and it felt like daylight instead of night time.

"Where are you from? What are you doing here?" They asked us all these questions, and my brain could not follow along. Mama and papa sat, answering all the questions. Anxol's head drooped onto my shoulder, and I felt my head leaning on top of hers. I could hear her light breaths; signalling that she was descending the world of her dreams.

I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and they quickly closed. The words around us felt muffled, and I could only make out a few words before falling into a deep sleep.

_Capitol. Panem. Hunger. Impossible. Games._

And then, through my sleep-induced mind, I wondered what Anxol saw in this grey world this time.

If grey skies would turn into red blood.

It was strange, this new place. Everyone spoke in hushed tones to us, and cast curious glances our way.

We stayed in this building, one of the largest ones in this large town - no, district, that was what they called it. This place was much larger than our little village - ten times larger, for sure. The man let us stay in his home until we could live in an empty house, he said. The man was about the same age as papa, with chestnut brown hair and kind brown eyes.

"I'm Mayor Delan." He smiled to us, bending down to Anxol and I's height.

"Hello." We answered quietly, meek in the presence of this strange new man.

Mayor Delan stood back up and turned to face our parents, who were watching us with tired but happy eyes.

"They're sweet ones, aren't they? We haven't got any twins around here, though I've heard about a set or two in other districts." Mayor Delan observed. "What are their names?"

"Why don't you tell Mayor Delan yourselves, snowflakes?" Papa grinned to us, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes after the gruelling weeks of running were over.

Anxol and I shared a nervous glance at each other. She showed no signs of speaking first. I didn't want to go first, but then I remembered my promise; my decision.

I would do things that others could not.

And though this was nothing large; miniscule, nothing at all, it was the first step. The first step to doing what Anxol did not, or could not do, and leading her to it. Being her guide to survival.

"I'm Enkol." I beamed at Mayor Delan, the best I could. Mama and papa smiled at me, glad that I was being friendly to this man that they so clearly befriended.

"Enkol. What an unique name." Mayor Delan smiled at me, a warm, friendly smile. He turned to Anxol. "What's your name, darling?"

Anxol shied behind me, peeking out over my shoulder past her long hair.

"I'm Anxol." She said softly.

"Anxol. How exotic." He smiled at her before turning to the both of us. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Anxol and Enkol."  
"Nice to meet you, too, Mayor Delan." I returned his smile.

"Well, well, what kind, polite children you have here, Mr. and Mrs... Enkeli, was it? Ah yes." He addressed our parents. "I'll be showing you your quarters for now."

Mayor Delan led us to a large room - the size of our whole house! - and told us that it was to be our bedroom.

"All of it?" Anxol asked quietly, eyes shining, the first time speaking without being asked to.

"Yes, little Anxol. You and your family can have this whole room for a while, until you can get settled." Mayor Delan smiled.

He showed us the washrooms and the dining room, and told us that we didn't need to cook for them. Anxol eyed the cooking utensils, her eyes following everything.

The house was huge. The furniture all seemed so refined, so much more detailed and classed. Their furniture was used to make their home look beautiful. Ours were practical, used to serve their purpose. My eyes couldn't take everything in.

But the strangest things were the things hanging from the ceiling, brightening up the whole room. It was like a miniature sun encased in glass, and it hurt to stare at it for too long. Mayor Delan called it a 'light bulb'. My brain couldn't understand how Mayor Delan managed to steal a piece of the sun for his home.

When he was done showing us around, Mayor Delan left us to sleep in our new room. The bed was so soft and light, and I sank down on the mattress. It felt so nice to be sleeping on a mattress after all those weeks of sleeping on the cold, hard ground.

Our whole family shared one bed - that's how large it was - and Anxol and I squeezed in together between our parents, and we all fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, unknowing that the world we entered held a fate much worse from the one we had escaped.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Ah, another short chapter. Sorry. Promise they'll get longer in time. Sorry!

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

And as usual, next chapter will be up tomorrow!


	7. News

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Different would have been a massive understatement.

Life was no longer life. Life in Panem - that was what they called this world - wasn't quite like living to me. It was more like trying to walk through a lake or a pond. Slow. Sluggish. The days meshed with each other, with terms and names and places that I did not know. Everything was just a grey blur.

It didn't feel like life when the air was so muddled and thick. It wasn't life when we were cooped up all day; no longer able to play in the snow or hide in the forest. Everything was just dull, metallic, unfeeling, cold.

The first ray of light in this grey world came a few months after our arrival. We had unsteadily gotten on our own feet, no longer living in Mayor Delan's large house. We had a small house of our own, and our life was acquiring a pattern.

Papa and mama told us about it over dinner one day, bright smiles on their faces.

"Snowflakes, your mama and I have some very exciting news for the two of you." Papa smiled; not the small sad smile that he so often wore nowadays. He looked to our mama, eyes sparkling with happiness; the most elated I've ever seen him in my life.

"You may do the honours, Sylvei."

Our mama turned to us, cheeks rosy and a bright beam on her face.

"Enkol, Anxol," she beamed, "you're going to have a baby sister or brother. I'm going to have a baby!"

We sat there in a second of dazed silence. With our mouths open wide, we turned to each other in unison, our identical faces matched our identical expressions. Then we turned back to our parents.

"_What?_"

"Oh, snowflakes, isn't it wonderful? It's going to be a family of five!" Papa grabbed us into a hug, and our mother wrapped her arms around us.

"Is it going to be a boy or a girl?" Anxol asked, muffled through the arms of our parents squeezing us together.

"Oh, angel, we don't know yet." Mama smiled, patting her stomach. "I hope we'll know soon, though."

"What would you name him? Or her?" I looked at her with wide, shocked eyes.

Mama and papa shared a glance before answering us.

"Well, snowflakes, here's where you two come in. " Papa ruffled the hair on our heads. "You two can pick the names for us."

"Really?" Anxol asked, a small smile tugging on her lips. "Enkol and I get to pick?"

"Really." Mama laughed. "We want you two to decide for us."  
"So we can have any name at all? Even something like..." I scrunch my nose up, trying to come up with a name. "...Askell-Sylvei-Enkol-Anxol?"

Papa laughs loudly; a real, booming laugh filled with warmth.

"If you wish so, Enkol." He stares at me with laughter and amusement in his eyes. "Though if you decide to pick that name, I would prefer to call the baby 'Asea' instead of the variation you have so thoughtfully provided."

"But," mama adds, "the two of you must both agree on the name. That is our only rule."  
Anxol and I turn to each other again, devious smiles on our faces.

**.**

Throughout the months, we would help out mama as much as possible, making sure she did the least amount of work. Anxol cooked and I cleaned, and papa continued to work. We would support her everywhere, and made sure she always ate. Sometimes, she would ask for certain foods that were hard to acquire, or ask for multiple blankets throughout the night. Sometimes, all she asked for was for us to curl up next to her and just keep her company.

"It's going to be a girl." Anxol said absent-mindedly, toying with her hair. "I can just see it."

"Nu-uh. It's obviously a boy." I countered back stubbornly.

"Girl." She proclaimed.

"Boy." I shouted, trying to best her with my opinion.

"Girl!" Anxol shrieked happily.

"Boy!" I yelled gleefully.

"Children!" Papa shouted from the kitchen, strict though I could detect the amusement in his voice. "Quiet, now. We don't want to expose the baby to such loud noises."  
Anxol and I quieted down, sitting in silence. Then we turned to each other at the same time, merriment in our eyes; reflecting each other.

"Twins!" We shouted at the exact same time, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles and hysterical laughter together.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Argh, super short chapter, I know. I am really, really sorry. Everything's just been really hectic these past few days and I haven't had the chance to sit down and write a proper length chapter. Sorry ):

Anyways, what did you think? Just a happy-ish chapter after everything's that happened - just to brighten up the mood a bit.

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	8. Unfair

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

We all learned in baby steps.

Walking. Talking. Working.

We all started at square one, and slowly progressing until we reached the end, when we have conquered our task.

That was how we settled in District 5. Mayor Delan was our guardian, providing guidance for every step along the way. Everything was so strange at first; too strange, too foreign, too different. But then, slowly, we learned. We learned their ways. We learned their customs.

And we learned their fears.

**.**

"Mama, why do we have to look nice today? It's just like any other day, isn't it?"

Anxol peered up at our mama, who was pinning her fair hair into an elegant bun, her stomach large with the baby. Anxol was wearing a newly sewn pale blue dress, ironed and tailored perfectly. I was wearing a new collared shirt and uncomfortable pants. We were forced into a tub and scrubbed fiercely from head to toe, scratching off any dirt, and probably a layer of skin along with it.

It had been eight months since we landed in Panem.

We lived in a small house not too far away from Mayor Delan's, and our parents often consulted him for any problems or questions that they had. And we had many.

Anxol and I began to attend school, where they taught us all about electricity and power. We were extremely behind, and for the first six months, we spent more time at school trying to catch up than at home with our parents.

Our parents, too, learned about electricity and power. They picked it up much quicker than us, and as soon as they began understanding the properties of it, they acquired jobs as nuclear power plant workers.

It was strange, seeing our mama and papa wearing these strange baggy suits instead of their usual furry coats and thick boots. Many things were strange in this world, from the people to the things they owned. We no longer used candles. Our house was not made of stone. The world was an ashy shade of grey instead of a pure white. The people all did the same thing, and there were no large ranges of jobs that kept the community thriving.

One job. One task. One skill. One trade.

It was difficult transitioning into our new lives. Waking up with crisp, white sheets instead of the thick pelts of animals that our papa hunted. Going to school and learning about this strange electricity instead of going to the forest to gather firewood. Walking along the colorless roads surrounded by looming, intimidating buildings instead of the white, snow dusted paths and welcoming, warm homes.

Even now, eight months later, everything was still strange.

"Hush, Anxol, Enkol. Today is just a special day." Our mama answered soothing. "We must look presentable."

"But why? What special day is it?" I piped. "Is it somebody's birthday? Will there be cake?"

"Quiet down, now, my little snowflakes." Papa appeared at the doorway, wearing his best clothes. "Listen to your mama so we can get there on time."

We kept our lips shut, but Anxol and I shared many glances, shooting each other looks that spoke for themselves. It was like our own language; a quirk of an eyebrow, a twitch of our lips, the fluttering of our eyelashes. We understood each other perfectly without even saying the words.

When our mama was done grooming us, our parents took us by the hands and lead us to the centre of the district. It was bustling, filled with everybody in the district, standing in neat, organized rows.

_This is one big birthday party, _I remembered thinking.

Oh, how it was to be eight years old and still unknowing to the horrors of the world. It's too late now to take back all I've seen. All I've known.

Anxol and I were ushered to a pen, and we held hands to make sure we were not parted. We swiveled our heads to find our parents, panicked that they were not behind us any longer, only two tall men wearing all white - Peacekeepers, they were called.

Though I was scared of this sudden departure from our parents, I held on firmly to Anxol's hand, guiding her. Small acts that others could not do. In other words, acts of bravery. Small bursts of it, but still bravery in the end.

Anxol's eyes were wide and fearful, and she almost latched onto me like she was an extension of my body. I guided her to where I saw all my friends standing, and she followed me like a shadow; my hand grasping hers tightly.

At school, I would talk to all the kids that were in our class. There were only about twenty of us, and I tried to be friendly though I was secretly terrified of these strange new people.

And it turns out, they were quite like me. They loved to run and play and wander around the far side of District 5, where we were not allowed. Quickly, these classmates evolved from strange species to familiar friends.

However, I couldn't say the same thing to Anxol. Every day, she would sit in the corner of the class, silent and lips shut. On the first few days, I tried getting her to talk to these new people who were, in fact, quite kind, but she kept her lips shut and her eyes wide.

When I asked her why she wouldn't talk to anybody, she simply replied with, "These are the sad people, Enkol. They are all sad."

I didn't understand; all of my new friends always smiled and joked and laughed. They never seemed as sad as Anxol described them to be, but I let her be. I sat with her during breaks and held her hand when we walked home; _things others cannot do, _I told myself.

I would be Anxol's guide when she could not find her way. I would be her companion when she was alone.

Amongst the crowd, I saw my good friend, Jonah. He saw me at once and waved me over, also wearing clothes much nicer than what he usually wore.

"Enkol! Over here! You're supposed to be at the children's pen! Quick, before you get in trouble!"  
I tugged Anxol towards Jonah, her head turning everywhere as if she was trying to see everything, despite the fact that she had seen the district centre every day for the past eight months.

I squeezed in the small spot next to Jonah and pushed Anxol's small frame next to me. I was sandwiched between Anxol and Jonah; Anxol silent and observing while Jonah was chattering endlessly.

"My ma thinks that I'll be Reaped someday soon. Says that if I keep on sneaking out everywhere, the Capitol will get me themselves! Silly, considering that it's drawing a name out of a bowl, but it still gives me shivers every time." Jonah spoke a mile a minute. "What about you, Enkol? Does your ma say that too?"

I give Jonah a curious look; not the first time I've done so. I don't know if it's because Jonah naturally says strange things, or if it's the actual customs of this land. I still have troubles sorting everything out.

"Reaping? What's that? What are you talking about?"

"Are you nuts, Enkol? You mean you don't know about the Reapings?" Jonah looks at me with wide brown eyes. "Did you hit yourself hard on the head one day and didn't tell me?"

I shake my head slowly. I can sense Anxol peeking out from behind my shoulder to look at Jonah with the same curious look that she has so often.

"You two are like little babies, you know that? Scoot over, Enkol, and let me teach you two about something very important." Jonah, without waiting for a response, squirms over in between Anxol and I, giving us the same look that the upper classes often wear. Anxol, instead of hiding away like she normally does when Jonah is around, looks at him with expectant eyes.

"Now, you little wee ones, the Reapings are a very important day of the year." Jonah begins, using an exaggerated wise-man voice. "And no, it's not a birthday, Enkol. I know you love them bakery sweets, but today's not the day for those."

Anxol giggles softly as my face falls.

Jonah glances at the steadily growing crowd around us before returning to his story.

"Lucky you two came early, eh? I didn't think anyone besides my ma would think about coming an hour before the actual Reaping, now we've got time to explain." He observes the small groups of people starting to gather around at the district centre.

"Now, listen up you two, because this is more important than any of those tests those professors are going to throw at us in the labs." Jonah says solemnly. "This is something that'll last you your whole life."

"Just get to the point, Jonah!" I hiss at him as a Peacekeeper walks by.

"Okay, okay, Enkol. Just trying to build up some suspense here. Suspense is better than what's to come, you know; but since you asked for it..."

"Every year, on a special day, everybody in every district is to gather in their district centre to participate in the Reapings. Like today. And then, when everybody's here, we all get sorted into sections, like we are now." Jonah begins. "Which is why you're separated from your ma and pa. Children in the back on the right, and adults in the back on the left. Everybody from the ages of twelve to eighteen are sorted into those little pens up there according to their age and gender. You see? Girls on the left and boys on the left. Twelves in the front and eighteens in the back. You two with me?"  
We both nod eagerly.

"Then, we have this scary lady come up to the stage to talk about the brilliant the Capitol is and show us this video about how amazing it all is." Jonah says bitterly, eyes angry. "You see, this lady's from the Capitol. She don't know nothing about us, and we're better off knowing nothing about them. She's got this hideous wig with these ugly colors and she look no better than the mud we step on."

Anxol and I raise our eyebrows simultaneously.

"You'll see her for yourself, and then you guys can go raise your eyebrows at her. Anyways, this lady goes over to the two bowls over there - " he gestures to the two large bowls on the opposite side of the stage "- and then she picks out one unlucky girl and boy to go to the Capitol."

"But isn't the Capitol filled with food and money? They always say how rich the Capitol is." I ask, interrupting Jonah's story.

"This isn't no ticket to money, Enkol. So in every district, they have one scary lady or man picking out two names from the bowl. The bowls are filled with names of boys and girls in that district that are between the ages of twelve and eighteen." Jonah continues in a increasingly hushed voices as more people began pouring in. We huddle to hear his words. "And everybody's name is on it. If you're twelve, you've got your name one time in that bowl. You're thirteen, you've got two slips with your name. And fourteen and fifteen and so on. So when you're eighteen, you have seven slips with your name in it, and you have a higher chance."

"Higher chance for what?" Anxol asks, hushed. Her eyes are wide and curious, with a faint hint of fear.

"Ah, so she talks. Anyways, little Anxol, I was getting to that part." Jonah smiles grimly at Anxol's direction. "When these people from the Capitol pick two unlucky names, the two people are forced to go to the Capitol to fight."

"Fight for food?" I ask, thinking about how hungry we were here and how abundant the food at the Capitol was.

"Is everything about food for you, Enkol?" Jonah asks, amusement in his eyes. "But yeah, you're partially right. They fight, and the winner gets food and money."

"How do you know who wins? How do you win?" I question, asking the questions that I could see in Anxol's eyes.

"Whoever's left." Jonah says, a troubled look on his face.

"I don't understand." I state. I didn't understand a lot of things recently. However, Anxol looked ashen as soon as the words left Jonah's lips; her eyes haunted and horrified.

"There's twenty-four kids altogether; two from each district, twelve districts in total. These kids are put into this arena and they're forced to fight until there's only one winner left." Jonah said, hushed. "How do you think there goes from twenty-four kids to one, Enkol?"  
I shrugged.

"You're a daft nine-year-old sometimes, you know that Enkol?" Jonah rolls his eyes at me.

"They kill each other. They all die except for the last one standing." Anxol whispers quietly, eyes staring intently on the ground, as if she was to look up, she'd see the dying children herself. And maybe she did.

"You know, you should talk more in class, Anxol. You're a quick one." Jonah smiles. "Well, brighter than this one here. Now I know who got the smart genes."

"Hey!" I protest.

"But there's more! Ouch - _stop it, Enkol!_" I stop smacking him, partially because I wanted to hear more, and partially because the Peacekeeper strolling by was glaring at me.

"They make us _watch _these kids kill each other. They film it and everything, and we gotta watch as they take away our friends and families and make them kill people and die." Jonah finished, his voice dropping to a whisper once again.

There was more people now, almost all the pens completely filled.

"That's sick." The words escape my mouth, uncontrollable. Why would someone do that? Why would anyone do that? I didn't understand. I still don't understand.

"Pretty terrible. Me aunt went in when she was a kid herself. Dad's never been quite the same." Jonah says as an afterthought, kicking the dirt with the scruff of his shoe. "None of us really are afterwards. Not the ones watching and not the ones playing."

Anxol looked at the podium with fear in her eyes, terror and dread seeping into her grey irises. I told myself that I'd be strong for her; that I'd protect her and do what she could not, but this, _this, _was too much.

"This isn't fair." I say loudly, making some of the eighteen-year-old girls turn around and stare at me. "This isn't fair at all!"

I look at the rows and rows of kids that will be me and Jonah and Anxol in a few years, and I look at their trembling hands and skittish eyes. I look at them all; how each of them had a brother, a sister, a mother, a father, _somebody _who provided and loved them. They all had somebody, and yet those people who love them will be forced to watch them die. I look around, and I imagine the other districts; and though I haven't seen them, only heard them by their name, I can still imagine the same scene: kids, standing in neat lines as they wait for their name to be drawn. Wait for their death.

Two people will be missing from the crowd from each district. A friend, a brother, a sister - and it will feel as if someone had taken out chunks of our world away with them.

"Don't you get it by now, Enkol?" Jonah looks at me with dead-serious eyes. "Nothing's really fair in this world."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

A normal-sized chapter at last! How did you like it?

I really liked writing Jonah. I have no idea. He's just fun to write, in my opinion. What did you think of the chapter?

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	9. Home

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

I stand, as still as stone as the names are drawn.

I look at the Capitol lady, and Jonah, true to his word; she is as ugly as the dirt we step on. I wish I could step on her.

The girl goes up, crying. The boy shakes uncontrollably.

And then the train steals them away to the Capitol.

**.**

"'...until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as "The Hunger Games.'" Jonah reads aloud from Panem's history files; one that he 'borrowed' from his mother's paperwork desk.

I stare at the words on the musty paper, Anxol staring just as intently. I managed to get her to come with little convincing to stay after learning hours at the labs to read more into this 'Hunger Games'.

"So in other words, we're forced to make the Hunger Games like a celebration. They certainly are in the Capitol." Jonah snorts. "Evil little roaches, they are."

For the past hour we've been staying in the abandoned lab, we've read through the history of the Dark Days and the events that take place from the Reapings to the crowning of the new victor. We took turns reading each passage aloud; even quiet Anxol read the paragraphs.

We're silent when we finish reading the past page.

_May the odds be ever in your favour._

"Why don't we just stop watching? Stop playing?" Anxol asks Jonah quietly.

"I doubt the Capitol would take that well. Probably blow up District 5 like what they did to 13."

Anxol shudders, and I scoot a little closer to her, to keep her warm though I know it's not the wind making her cold.

"We should get back now." I stare at the slowly setting sun. "The Peacekeepers will be making sure we're watching soon."

We slowly get up and walk out the labs, into the weak rays of sunlight.

"See you tomorrow, Enkol, Anxol. I'll bet you that monster girl from 1 will beat the pulp out of everybody... the Careers always do." Jonah sighs sadly before walking away. "I guess we'll see."

Anxol and I slowly trudge home; I was almost dragging her back, she was as still as a statue. She's been like that ever since the Reaping day, and there was nothing I could do to snap her out of her haze.

"Come on, Anxol, it's time to go home." I try cajoling her out of her dazed mood.

"Remember what you said, Enkol? This isn't home. This is just a temporary residence." She smiles sadly at me. "Home is at the bottom of the sea now."

**.**

Anxol buries her head into papa's neck whenever the Games show. Our parents watch with sick looks on their face, eyes filled with regret and sorrow. I hold Anxol's hand, trying to pass on the nonexistent strength that I have.

She watches the tribute parade. And she watches the interviews. She can watch the training scores, and she can watch the commentaries.

But she can't watch the Games.

She tried to, at least. But the initial bloodbath - what Jonah called it - made her squirm into the safety of our papa's lap, hiding away from the projector in our house.

She breathed heavily and I could see her shaking. Anxol whimpered with every cannon ringing out, and she covered her ears when she heard the screams.

But I watched as the blood coated the pure white snow; evil tainting the pure life I used to have.

_Do what others cannot do._

And though I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, the only way I knew we would survive together is if at least one of us was strong enough to hold the other when things were hard.

Things were hard now.

And Anxol certainly didn't seem strong enough now.

So I stepped up to the plate, because she was my baby twin sister, and we were going to survive, and I was going to make sure we did.

Protect her. That was my goal.

And I will succeed.

**.**

Anxol cried, unable to sleep. And I wasn't able to, either.

The first night was the worst.

I hushed her and soothed her, but she wouldn't stop rocking and shaking, and there was nothing the nine-year-old me could do.

"It'll be fine, Anxol, it'll be fine." I murmured even though I knew it wasn't. "It'll all be fine."

"I told you that they were all sad, Enkol. They make me sad, too." She whispered to me. "I told you."

"You were right, Anxol. They are all sad."

There's a moment of silence before either one of us speaks again.

"I just want to happy." She whispered sadly into my chest, where she was curled up. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, and I could feel her tears seeping through my shirt.

"You will be happy, Anxol." I said softly. "I promise."

"Will you be happy, too?" She turned up to me, our identical grey eyes meeting. "I want everybody to be happy. I want those children who are fighting to be happy. Why can't everyone just be happy together?"

"They were all happy at one point." I answer. "At one point in their lives."

It's silent once more. It drowns me, though I have no words to say. I want to cut through it; because the silence screams the horrible truth of this new, horrible world that we've entered.

And Anxol, being my twin, seems to read my mind.

"I miss home." She sighed softly.

"Me, too."

**.**

The Games ended a month after the Reapings. The 'monster girl from District 1' won, as Jonah predicted. She was covered in blood and guts, standing as they announced her the winner of the 62nd Hunger Games.

Anxol and I turned ten years old shortly after.

It should've been enjoyable; it was our family with the cake I've been yearning for so long. There were hugs and kisses and a watch from Jonah. It should've been normal; happy, even.

But Anxol would stare into the distance for a few moments too long, and I wasn't able to sleep anymore. We would walk with shaky steps, though I pretended to be strong through my strong grip on Anxol's hand. It was hard, trying to transition to the strange normal we used to have after seeing blood and death in our own house.

Mayor Delan came often with ghost smiles and treats that did nothing to sweeten the bitter world we had entered. He and my parents would talk with hushed voices when they thought we were asleep, though the Hunger Games had banished any chances of sleep from me.

Jonah and I would still sneak away from the boundaries of District 5 or try to color the grounds of District 5 with juice from berries. But no matter what mischief we went with, things weren't quite the same. Not after seeing killing and murder. Not after seeing humans kill one another for survival.

Not after the Hunger Games.

Normalcy was something that was long abandoned as soon as we step foot on this cruel, hopeless world.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	10. Complete

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Anxol and I rarely argued, despite our differences. We fought over small things; like who would get the first plate of pie first. We were almost two completely different people, but our differences never got in the way of our relationship. Though we were two different people, we were the same person. We were twins, and we had a special bond that not even our parents could decipher.

Names were not something we argued about - I liked to think of it as _disagreeing._

"Rhine!" Anxol chirped on our way to the labs.

"No, I think Declan sounds better!" I responded.

"I like the name Jaxon better for a boy." Anxol suggested.

"You only like that name better because it sounds like your name!"

"Well, it's a better name than _Declan._"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"Well, what if it's a girl?" Anxol asked, quickly changing the subject. "What would like to name her then?"

"Marcy!" I thought about it for a second before coming up with the name of my taste. "It sounds nice."

Anxol scrunched up her noise and stuck out her tongue.

"Marcy is so _boring. _There's at least three Marcys in the lab already!" She pouted, exaggerating her pink lips.

As our mother's stomach began growing, baby names became a frequent topic in our conversations. We could feel the baby kick and move, and mama always told us to put our hands to her stomach; she said that the baby will get to know us better that way.

It was better than talking about the Hunger Games.

It was a large responsibility, picking out a name. Anxol and I debated over several names, making a list and crossing out names that we each disliked. We agreed on many things, but picking out names was not one of them.

We even confided with Jonah on the matter; who had quickly become my best friend and Anxol's only friend from school - one of the few people she trusted enough to talk to. We told him about our task on naming our new baby sibling, and we consulted him for advice.

"Well, you two are daft little ducks, now aren't you?" Jonah laughed.

We both looked at him with expectant eyes, ready to hear our friend's opinion, hoping that he will provide some sort of tiebreaker.

"The answer's easy." He grinned. "You should name the baby Jonah."

**.**

The baby was born a month after our tenth birthday.

It was a girl.

She had beautiful pale blue eyes that matched our father's perfectly; down to the black rim and grey flecks. She had soft tufts of dark blonde hair that also belonged to our father, and she wriggled and squirmed in our arms.

She, unlike Anxol and I, looked like our father. Anxol and I were almost copies of our mother, with white-blonde hair and light grey eyes. When Anxol and I went out with our mother, we were often confused for as siblings instead of mother and child.

However, this baby resembled our papa as much as we resembled mama. We took turns holding this little baby girl in our arms, while she squealed and gurgled gleefully.

Anxol held her with utmost care, staring at our new baby sister with love and care in her eyes. When she passed her to me, I held her as if she was about to break. She looked up at me with wide blue eyes that saw this world as something magical, beautiful, amazing. She giggled with utmost pure innocence and smiled at me sweetly, reaching out to me, her big brother.

And in that moment, like I swore to protect Anxol, I swore to protect her too; my new baby sister that hasn't seen the worst of the world. Both of my baby sisters who didn't deserve to live in this world. Who deserved to live and die in the white world, not this grey world painted with red blood. And since I couldn't bring them back to the white world, I promised that I would protect the two of them - my two little sisters - from the dangers in this cruel world.

I passed the baby along back to mama, and mama cradled her gently in her arms.

"Well," she asked, trembling with happiness, "did the two of you pick out a name yet?"

Anxol and I glanced at each other with panicked expressions; we hadn't agreed on a name yet.

I turned back to the baby - _my new baby sister _- and looked at her once more. The first thing you would notice are her beautiful pale blue eyes. Like the sun hiding behind a thin layer of clouds. They reminded me of the sky - no, not the sky here; it's always grey and murky here. The sky above our home made of stone. The sky that hovered over us while we gathered wood or played in the snow.

They reminded me of home.

Almost as if she carried a part of the crisp blue sky with her, like how Anxol and I carried the snow in our eyes and hair. It reminded me of the forests, the ponds, the ice - hazy to me now, after being here for over a year now.

"She reminds of me home." I said quietly, directed towards Anxol. "The way her eyes are a piece of the sky back home, back before the wave."

Papa and mama looked at us silently; even the baby was observing the two of us.

"I think we should name her after a part of our old lives." Anxol smiled faintly. "So we'll remember."

I nodded, agreeing. "Do you have any ideas?"

Mama passes the baby back to Anxol, and she stares at her for a long moment before nodding, a small smile gracing her lips.

"I think we should name her Belladonna."

Anxol carefully transfers her back into my arms, and I look down on my second baby sister, taking in everything about her.

Belladonna. The beautiful belladonna lily that grew next to the door of our stone home. The bright, pink bulbs that popped out in the white snow in the forest under the canopy of the trees. They swayed as we slipped and slid on the pond. The scent of it in the herbal medicine that the medicine-man made for us. They even sat in a pot on our window at night; everywhere in our old world, hidden in the background yet so obviously clear when we thought about it.

A piece of home that made its way here.

Anxol, mama, and papa are looking at me with expectant eyes, waiting for my answer. They all wear a smile on their faces, bright and joyous.

I look back down on the little bundle in my arms, who is, too, staring up at me with curious blue eyes.

"Welcome to the world, little Belladonna." I smiled, tickling her gently. "Welcome to the family."

Belladonna gurgled, shrieking with happiness now that she was christened a name. We all looked at her, looked at each other, smiling; forgetting about this brutal world and the malicious Hunger Games.

We were a family of five now, joined together. We pulled each other into a tight embrace, and held each other close.

We had each other. We were family. And despite everything; the world we left, the world we entered, the violence it held, we would always have one another.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Another happy chapter! Yay! What did you think of it?

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter, as per usual, will be up tomorrow.


	11. Family

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

It felt strange, having two sisters.

But it wasn't the strange that gave you shivers; like when we were forced to adjust to Panem. This strange gave me a curious, warm sensation that filled me like the fireplace back at home.

Belladonna was always smiling and squealing loudly. The noise cut through the stiff silence of our house, and I loved it. She always a sparkle in her eyes and was more than willing to play games with us.

We shortened her name to Donnie, since papa and mama agreed that calling her 'Belladonna' would be a mouth full. But it didn't matter - she represented the flower that grew in our home, the light in this world, and was a reminder that happiness came at strange times.

Anxol and I had to pry ourselves away from Donnie every morning before going to school. We would rush back to the house immediately after we were dismissed from the labs. Anxol and I spent countless hours just playing with Donnie; hide-and-seek, peek-a-boo. We sang her songs and made silly dances that she giggled loudly to.

Donnie seemed to brighten up our whole family. She filled in the missing gap that we didn't know was there.

Papa tossed her up in the air and caught her, spinning her around in crazy circles. He blew into her stomach and spoke to her in the special baby-voice he reserves for children. Mama would cuddle with Donnie for hours and took delight in reading to her. Mama cleaned Donnie and sang sweet lullabies to her before she slept. Anxol and I sang playful tunes and were just silly little children around Donnie, trying anything to hear her musical, beautiful laugh. We all loved Donnie.

Donnie grew into a beautiful, sweet baby girl. We nurtured her and loved her; taught her and cared for her. We all took turns in playing the role that we were now known to her - mama, papa, bubba, and sissy. We all joined together as a family over Donnie's arrival, more evenings spent together and more days laughing.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, six months after she was born, that Donnie's first word was 'family'.

**.**

"Want to go to the Meadow, Enkol?" Jonah asked, just as the professor dismissed us.

I instinctively snapped my head to Anxol, who was gathering up her papers with a faint smile on her face.

Anxol's been a lot better recently. She's no longer crying at night, and responds quietly when other students talk to her. She doesn't say that the people are sad anymore, but I think that's just because we now both know why they're upset in the first place.

Anxol looks up from her papers, almost as if she sensed me looking at her. She quickly finishes gathering the sheets together and walks briskly to where Jonah and I were.

She takes one look at Jonah and I and says, "You can go to the Meadow, Enkol. There's no need to worry about me all the time."

I raise an eyebrow at her. We both knew that Anxol didn't like walking home by herself.

She raises an eyebrow back at me, our faces mirroring one another.

"I'm fine, Enkol. I'll just take care of Donnie." She gives me a small smile. "Go have fun with Jonah."

"Yeah, Enkol. You haven't been to the Meadow with us in while." Jonah grins. "You've missed out on a lot ever since Donnie was born."

Anxol nudges me gently, telling me accept Jonah's offer.

"I knew I liked you for a reason, Anxol." Jonah grins at Anxol, slinging an arm around her shoulder. She tense up for a millisecond, but a hesitant smile crosses her face soon after. "Telling your brother to have fun. Do you want to come too?"

Jonah sounds mildly hesitant, shy, almost, as he asks Anxol. She looks up at him and shakes her head slightly.

"I'm sorry. I can't. I have to go home and watch over Donnie." She answers. "But Enkol can most definitely, go, _right, Enkol?_"

I take a look at Anxol for the last time, and I can read clearly in her eyes the message she's trying to send to me.

_Go have fun, Enkol. There's nothing to be worried about._

I've been worrying about Anxol in this world, with the Hunger Games and all. But she is safe from this brutal world, from the Capitol's grip. I still think I should watch over her, but in that moment, I realized that I needn't hover over her all the time. She is her own person, and is capable of taking care of herself.

But I will always be there when she needs me, and will always be there to look out for her.

"Alright, Jonah. To the Meadow!"

**.**

The Meadow was on the outskirts of District 5, on the side close to District 4. It seemed to be the only place in District 5 that had no traces of grey, and if you squinted your eyes enough, you might just see the ocean.

It was also where all the kids went to play.

It was the only obvious choice, of course, the place that was just as lively as our spirits. The place that wasn't grey and daunting, the one place where we were as close to freedom as it gets.

"C'mon, Enkol! There's been apples growing at this one tree, I have to show you! It's really amazing, they're so red; not like that gunk the Capitol sends us." Jonah chatters, dragging me to the small cluster of trees. "You can bring some home to Anxol."

Jonah and I rest underneath the large apple tree, lazing in the shade, munching on our apples. We watched the other kids play in the Meadow; chasing each other, playing small games, or just simply enjoying the beautiful day like we were.

"You know, Enkol, you and your sister aren't too bad." Jonah says lazily. "I thought you and your family were all monsters or animals when I first saw you."

"Thanks." I say dryly. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Strange, you know, a family showing up in the middle of the night in this tiny boat." Jonah admits, taking a large bite out of his apple. "Looking all snowy-white and all. Well, I haven't seen any snow in my life, but I imagine it looks a bit like you and your sister."

"You guys didn't seem too normal yourself." I shot back playfully. "All grey and colourless."

"Yeah, but we ain't got any visitors here in Panem." He throws the apple core to the grass. "Not ever. You're lucky we picked you up, and not District 4. You guys would've been toast if you landed there."

I sit up a little straighter. "How so?"

"District 4's part of the Career pack." Jonah replies, pointing to the vague outline of the ocean, or what we assumed was the ocean. "Loyal to the Capitol. Would've thought you guys were spies and _bam! _Sent to the Capitol. Executed."

I shudder slightly.

"Nah, but I'm glad I got to know you and your sister." Jonah twirls a piece of grass in his fingers. "You're nice. Don't walk away when I'm talking or anything."

"How could I, Jonah? You're the most interesting person here!" I grin.

"Thanks, man. I'm glad that I took you guys under my wing. You've still got a lot to learn about here." He grins back. "You're like a little brother to me or something. Curious. Eager."

We sit in a contented silence for a minute longer.

"What about Anxol?" I ask, wondering about other people's opinion about Anxol - if they thought she was crazy, or if she was just quiet. If she was in danger from any of them.

"She's different. Strong." Jonah says simply, brown curls shining in the weak sunlight. "She's going to change Panem one day, and I want to be around to see it."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I just love writing Jonah. I don't know why. It's just so much fun!

But anyways, time for my usually super-long and completely unnecessary author's note.

I just realized that this sub-story will be a bit longer than I intended. Not by much, just by about 3 chapters or so. But it's still kind of bugging me how it's longer than the other sub-stories, so I thought I'd just let you know. I guess it makes up for the really short chapters in the beginning.

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	12. Win

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

I was always curious. Impulsive, Anxol said. Never thought things out first, just went with it. She always stopped me from doing anything too dangerous, and was the only one who could talk me out of an idea. I wish she could always be with me to stop me. To ground me.

But no, they split us apart and left us out to survive by ourselves, despite the fact that we were the same person. We needed each other to survive, and the Capitol tore us apart.

I don't know what I would do without her.

I don't know what she would do if I ever left.

That was why I needed someone to do the things she couldn't do when I was gone. So that even though she was only half of a person when I was gone, someone would take my place and take care of her for me. Protect her.

Because that's all that ever mattered.

**.**

The 64th Hunger Games come by, almost too quick. What little peace and normalcy is shattered when we are forced to attend their Reapings and watch their Games.

We stand in the children's pen, and all I can think is _two more years to go._

Two more years until Anxol, Jonah, and I are one of the kids in the pens. Two more years until we are eligible to participate in the Hunger Games.

But for now, we are safe.

We watch the Hunger Games, but we always keep Donnie in a separate room. We take turns watching over her - mama watches for one hour, papa for the next, Anxol and I watch over her tomorrow. We eagerly walk away from the projection on our walls of the Hunger Games to go to Donnie. I would shut the doors tightly and try to play with Donnie lightheartedly all while knowing that there are children dying in the room next to me.

Anxol stops crying in her sleep. But now, she shifts uncontrollably, as if she was trying to run away from the ghosts that plague her mind. Sometimes she cries out, or lets out a soft whimper. I always wake her, trying to protect her even from her worst nightmares.

We watch as our District 5 tributes fall in the initial bloodbath. We watch as the tributes scramble hopelessly, trying to swim in this year's cove arena. We watch as the bronze-haired boy from District 4 spears the last six tributes with a bright beam on his face.

We watch the Games, and all we can think about is if it was worth leaving our home to come to this place.

**.**

"Did you _see _what he _did _to that last tribute?" Jonah exclaims the next day, after the victor of the 64th Hunger Games had been crowned.

The new victor had shining bronze hair, natural sun-tanned skin, and incredible sea green eyes that won over all of Panem. Or, well, the whole Capitol. He was as handsome as he was deadly.

"Of course we did, Jonah. We were all forced to watch." I answer wearily, tugging Anxol behind me.

She had dark circles under her glazed eyes, and I had a feeling she would be like this after every Game she saw. Again, there was nothing I could do to rouse her from this half-asleep state.

"Speared her! Like a fish!" Jonah shudders. "Couldn't have done it in one stab, now could he? Had to poke holes in her like some sort of tester that they probably do back at District 4. Blood spurting everywhere, absolutely _sickening_..."

"He had to do it." Anxol says quietly, shocking the both of us. She rarely talked - if at all - about the Hunger Games. "He didn't have a choice."

"What are you saying, Anxol?" Jonah snaps out of his silent shock. "Of course he had a choice. He's a Career. And Careers love making the last show the best."

"She was moving too fast." She said simply, stringy strands of hair falling from her ponytail. "He couldn't catch her, so that's why he kept on missing and poking holes."

"But he didn't have to _spear _her like some sort of fish!" Jonah counters.

"He _did_, Jonah! It was survival. It was the only way he was going to go home. It wasn't just about winning or giving a good show, Jonah, not all Careers are like that." Anxol says quietly, though her anger was slowly seeping through. "Don't you get it? I thought you, out of all people, would understand that people would have to do anything to go back home - even if it means spearing someone."

Before either of us could respond, she pushed her way past us and walked briskly ahead, already speeding back home. We could see her white-blonde ponytail bobbing in front of her, growing smaller and smaller as she walked faster.

"She's a strange one, that's for sure." Jonah stares at her retreating figure.

**.**

The first thing I see when I get home is Anxol, curled up on the couch with a blank look in her eyes.

"He didn't want to do it, you know." She says as soon as I walk through the door. "The victor. Finnick Odair. He didn't want to kill those kids."

I sighed and walked to her side.

"He smiled at the cameras right before his kills, Anxol. _Smiled. _And waved." I pointed out gently, not wanting her to be upset with me. "I don't think that's exactly a sign of not wanting to kill somebody."

"You're just looking at his smile, Enkol. You didn't look at his eyes." She sits up straight and turns to me, grey irises piercing me. "He was sad in his eyes. He didn't want to do it."

"Whatever you say, An." I sigh again, tired.

"It's not _whatever you say, An. _I could see it, Enkol, whether you could or not." Anxol says angrily. "You just don't believe me!"

"An, don't say that. Of course I believe you. I just have a hard time thinking that a Career wouldn't be happy killing."

"Careers aren't all bad, Enkol. Yes, they've been trained to kill, but does that mean they like it?" She counters back. "They're kids just like us, Enkol. Finnick Odair isn't much older than we are."

"Okay, Anxol."

"If you really want to know if someone's bad, just look into their eyes, Enkol." Anxol says. "The monster girl from 1 last year had crazy eyes. Crazy eyes when she was killing and crazy eyes when she won. _That _was a Career that loved to kill."

"But Finnick Odair? He had sadness in his eyes. Sad like yours when we were leaving home." She continues. "His eyes were like yours."

The comparison hit me hard. Finnick Odair, a Career victor, like me? I couldn't imagine a single thing that could link the two of us together besides the fact that we were both boys.

But Anxol had said that we had the same look in our eyes. If Anxol believed that, if she said that was true, then I believe her. Because she saw what I could not, and she had much better judgement than I did anyways.

"Okay, okay, you win, An. Finnick Odair didn't want to spear that girl, he only did it so he could go back home. " I throw up my hands in mock surrender. "You win."

Anxol only stares at me with a serious look in her eyes, looking much older than her ten years of age.

"It wasn't a game, Enkol." She said solemnly. "It's not something you can win."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

First mention of Finnick! At last! I've missed him in my story, haha. What did you think of his appearance?

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review - especially if you haven't left one yet! I'd love to hear from everybody reading (let's pretend people actually are) to see all of your opinions and suggestions! Massive thanks to all who have reviewed already!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	13. Monster

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Finnick's POV

They saw through me.

All of them. Looked at me, but didn't _see me. _

Oh, of course, they saw the bronze-haired boy. They saw the gleaming white smile, the bright green eyes. They saw the muscles and the skill, and they saw the kills and the deaths.

But they didn't see me.

The boy that killed all those children, he isn't me. He's some product of the Capitol, something they manufactured to give them entertainment.

I am the boy who loved to back flip off the cliff on the far side of District 4. I am the boy who rowed his boat out every day at sunrise just to watch the greyness fade into bright sunlight. I am the boy who hauled fish with his father, who swam in salty waters and ate sugary sweets.

I am Finnick Odair, but the Capitol has turned me into someone else.

They stole away who I am - _was _- and turned me into something of their own. They brightened my teeth and put sunlight in my hair; they dressed me up and paraded me around and _they made me kill._

They made me take away the life of children. Children like me, like my brother, like my sister. The Capitol made me kill them and they cheered as I did.

Sickening.

_Sponsors, _Mags had said. _You need them survive._

And the only way anyone got sponsors was if they were loved. The Capitol needed to love me, despite the fact that I held none for them. They are the ones who put me to death, but now I need them to help me cling onto life.

And the dazzling beams that felt too fake and the charm that felt too wrong worked. I got what I needed. I had all the tools to survive. The odds were in my favour.

But now all I needed to do was to _man up _and do the only thing I had to do to go back home.

_Kill._

It was too easy. It was much too simple. A stab with a spear, a cut with a knife. Humans are so delicate; they shred so easily. They bleed out and they just stop working, and they die. It's much too easy to kill, I realized.

It's too easy to take away a life, and it shouldn't be.

But I had to go back home. I had to help pa with the fishery; he couldn't do it by himself. I had to smile at mum and give her the cuddles that only I could give - she hasn't been happy ever since her sister died in the Hunger Games so long ago. They were close, and she hasn't been the same. I had to teach little Casper how to fish, and I promised Bea that I would show her how to dive to reach the prettiest seashells.

My mum. My pa. My baby sister and my baby brother.

_I had to go home._

I didn't think about the empty looks my pa would give me. I didn't think about the horror on baby Bea's face, or the disgust arranged on Casper's features. I didn't think about my mum, and how it might've been better for her to watch me die than see me turn into a monster.

Everybody looked at me now, but no one ever saw me again.

**.**

I wasn't human.

I shouldn't be. I can't be.

I took a trident and speared through children just like me, with the same ease I had when I fished. I took away a life the same way I could swim underwater - effortlessly. It wasn't natural. It couldn't be.

How can someone murder, and smile at their victim's pleading eyes? How can they beam as they squirm, or look at the cameras that are surely watching, and give them a grin, too? It's inhumane.

I was a monster.

I killed and smiled. I murdered and watched. I became those beasts that I was repulsed at, not too long before I turned into one myself.

I lost all feeling when I won. I couldn't feel happiness at seeing my family, not when I saw how they looked at me. I couldn't relish in the delights that District 4 provided when everywhere I went, they pointed and stared. I didn't feel the crown placed on my head, didn't feel the hug Mags gave me.

I felt nothing, and only true humans can feel. I am not human, not after what I did. Not after all that I've been through. I am a monster, and only had primal instincts left.

I wished that the sea would swallow me and take me to the place and time when I could still feel the emotions that painted my life.

**.**

I was congratulated, and I didn't understand why.

Are the congratulating me on slaughtering innocent human beings? Are they proud of what I did?

They shouldn't be. I was a monster, and monsters deserved to be put to death.

But the Capitol plans out the worst fate for you. They make sure that you are never happy, that the path they put you on will be the most miserable.

I am a monster who deserves to die, but the Capitol makes me live with the memory of what I have done.

I am paraded again and again, and they make me smile and laugh. They threw away Finnick Odair and now I am a monster hiding in his skin. I feel like an intruder; another thing to add to the list of the things I have become.

They _celebrate _what I have done. They dance and have fancy parties that have enough food to feed my family for a year. They thoroughly enjoyed what I did, and I wonder who is the one that is human.

The one celebrating death, or the one creating it?

We are all animals.

They give me a big house and food and money, but none of that is amounted to anything. Money, jewels, furniture - I would throw it all into the ocean; they are just reminders of what I have done to acquire them. The Capitol sends me these luxuries and riches as if it would make up for what they have forced me to do.

I force myself not to cry, because beasts cannot cry, and they do not deserve to shed a tear for the ones they have killed. It does not compensate for what I have done.

The water that leaks out of my eyes is merely saltwater finding its way back to the ocean.

**.**

Never would I have thought I would be Reaped.

I took out tesserae for my family, but other kids have taken out much more than I did.

My name being called was a shock. A numb shock. That was the moment I started becoming a monster. From numbness to emptiness.

I had training; all Careers did. But me? Finnick Odair? I had always thought that I would be a fisherman for the rest of my days; maybe find a nice girl and marry her next to the sea. But I had never thought that I would put into an arena to fight, with cameras watching my every move. That I had to charm everyone to win - _and I had to win - _and that there was a price to this victory, if you could call it that.

They tell me that the odds were in my favour. That I was a Career, that I was strong, that I was skilled, that I was handsome, that I had many sponsors. The odds were in my favour, they all said, that you managed to come back home.

But if they odds were in my favour, I would have never left.

None of us really leave the arena. No one does. Not whole, not the same again.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

A chapter in Finnick's point of view! I've missed writing through his eyes - even if it's about his Games. What did you think about it?

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter will be, as usual, posted up tomorrow.


	14. Wheel & Axle

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

"Bubba. Bubba!" Donnie squealed. "Bubba, bubba, bubba!"

"Bubba's here, Donnie-baby. Bubba' s here, now hush." I picked up Donnie and swung her around as she shrieked with glee.

"Bubba fun!" She beamed brightly. "Again! Again!"

"No can do, Donnie-bear. I have to go to school." I sighed, setting Donnie on the ground before heading for the door.

Donnie merely cocked her head to the side and gave me an inquisitive look.

"Anxol! Hurry up! We're going to be late!" I called, tapping my foot impatiently. "Professor Elwin's going to yell at me again!"  
"Well then, maybe you should listen in class instead of talking to Jonah." Anxol appears, speeding towards me, tying her hair into a sloppy ponytail. "Then Professor Elwin wouldn't have to yell at you."

"Whatever." I open the door, waiting. "Hurry up!"

"Alright!" She grabs a few papers, kisses Donnie on the cheek, and rushes over to my side.

"Bye, Donnie!" We call out.

"Bye-bye, Bubba! Bye-bye, Sissy!"

As we walk out the door with a smile on our faces, it almost feels normal to be living in District 5.

**.**

One month after Finnick Odair's victory, Anxol and I turned eleven.

_One more year left._

One more year until Anxol and I are able to qualify for the Reapings. One more year until we could be sent to the Capitol and forced to fight in the Hunger Games.

One more year until we could die.

I tell myself to stop being so ridiculous. The chances of a twelve-year-old being called was highly unlikely.

But not impossible.

I tell myself to get a grip. To relax a little, because there's a chance that Anxol and I will never be called at all. Mama and papa won't let us take the tesserae, despite the fact that it was clear we were not eating enough.

One half of me tells me to just stop being so paranoid; things were fine and we were safe. But the other half says that this doesn't feel right. Jonah was right; Panem had no visitors. It was too easy to take refuge in District 5, and I didn't think that the Capitol wouldn't notice us, if they are as powerful as they say they are.

I had a feeling that the Capitol didn't treat guests too kindly.

I had seen how malicious they could be. How unforgiving, how heartless. They wouldn't simply give us a scolding and let us be. No, it would be worse than that.

It takes a huge circle back to the Hunger Games. What if the Capitol punishes us by Reaping Anxol and I? What if it was never about the odds; the Capitol picks and chooses who will enter the arena?

Calm down, I tell myself.

Because what are the chances of the two of us being Reaped?

**.**

Soon after Anxol and I turn eleven, Donnie turns one years old. She is already able to form short sentences and walk around on unsteady legs. Now she explores our small house with wonder and curiosity, and she is more happy than ever. Donnie squeals and laughs, and her presence is enough to brighten our whole family; an innocent, loving child who still does not know what goes on in this world. Someone who has true happiness; not the false joy we force, fully knowing that we have entered a world that is brutal and cruel.

And for a few weeks, it almost seems like we've put together a semi-normal life together again, through the ruins of the white world that we fled.

**.**

"Does your ma and pa have to work at the Lightning Bolt late tonight?" Jonah asked us as soon as he saw us.

The Lightning Bolt was what we called District 5's largest electrical centre. It shipped off all electricity to the Capitol, and it was shaped like a tall, pointed needle, earning its name of the Lightning Bolt.

"Yes." Anxol answered. "They said that they would have to leave earlier and come back later."

"Do your parents have to work late, too?" I asked Jonah.

"Yeah." He said, a confused look on his face. "I wonder why."

"Me too." I sighed, not wanting to go home to a cold house and empty rooms. Things seemed so vulnerable, so unprotected without our parents at home.

"My ma and pa said there's something wrong with the Bolt. That's why those Capitol workers are here today; to fix it." Jonah explained. "Then they have to work later to make up for the time lost when they were trying to fix it."

"Why don't they just work harder another day?" I ask.

"The Capitol needs their electricity for their _lovely _Victory Tour." Jonah said in a high-pitched Capitol accent, his disgust clearly shown. "And it just _absolutely _must not be late."

We fall into silence as we pass the Lightning Bolt, watching the Capitol workers tinkering around with the wires and boxes surrounding the building. We can easily tell that they are linking the wires to the wrong plugs, messing up the orders and positioning of the meticulously placed wires.

"Those Capitol workers are such slobs." Jonah mumbles underneath his breath as we pass by a Capitol worker, glaring at one as we pass by. "They better not mess anything up."

**.**

Water and electricity shouldn't mix. Everybody knows that.

Living in District 5, we all know that experimenting with electricity was dangerous. Yes, we knew how to harness it and create it, but electricity is not an animal you can tame. It is wild, unpredictable, and is dangerous. It will not listen, and it will not stop once it has started.

We knew the dangers. We knew the possibilities. We knew what to do, what to avoid, and what to expect.

Water and electricity only creates destruction. It is like the gasoline to the fire; once it starts, there is no stopping. There is no mercy. There is no turning back, and there are no second chances. There is only death and damage.

And though we spend countless years learning all about electricity, there is no way to prevent what it will do when it is wild. There is no predicting what will happen for sure.

None of us saw it coming.

**.**

It was eerie, going home to a house without mama bustling in the kitchen, or papa playing with Donnie. Instead, it was just Donnie silently napping on the little cot we made her, sound asleep.

Anxol and I creep in, almost as if this was not our house, and we were sneaking around. It didn't feel right. The house was too large, too empty, too quiet.

Anxol and I shared a look, our matching grey eyes wide with fear. Once we saw each other's frightened gaze, we let out a nervous laugh, as if to reassure each other and say _don't worry, there's nothing to fear._

But out of the corner of my eye, I see Anxol bite her lip; a little tick that she does only when she's worried. I take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly. She gives me a small smile in return, worry lines creasing her forehead.

We hold hands and huddle together by the door, waiting for mama and papa to come home. The sky was quickly darkening, like it was about to rain.

"This doesn't feel right, Enkol." Anxol whispers, her white-blonde tendrils of hair falling onto my lap. "I don't like this at all."

"I don't either." I whisper back.

Outside, it begins to rain.

_Plop, plop. Drip, drip, drip._

Anxol shudders slightly when the rain begins falling. She glances nervously at the window.

"I'm scared." She says softly. "I don't like the rain. Not ever since we left."

I pat her hair gently with one hand and keep the other clasped onto her hand.

"Don't worry, Anxol. I'll take care of you. I promise." I reassure her. "The rain won't carry you away from me and the ocean won't swallow us again."

"How do you know for sure?"

"I'm your twin. I won't ever leave your side, and I'll always protect you because I'm your older brother." I smile. "We'll always have each other."

"I'll follow you, then. You're my big brother, and you'll guide me and I'll warn you." Anxol smiles back. "You can look forward and I can look back."

"That's right." I wrap my arms around Anxol and give her a hug. "I'll be the wheel and you'll be the axle - that's what Professor Elwin called it, right?"

"Yes." Anxol chuckles softly. "I'll be Axle and you'll be Wheel, and we'll be joined at the hip!"

"That's right!" I beam. I would always protect Anxol and guide her; watch over her and care for her.

We fell quiet, pondering our own questions, but keeping a faint smile on our lips, the mood slightly lightened.

The rain fell harder, pounding on the walls of our house, much like the rain in the white world before we left. The droplets fell loudly, until all we could hear was the sound of our own breathing and the rain outside.

But the screams that cut through the air were as clear as bells.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Cliffhanger-ish ending? Perhaps. Brownie points and an internet high-five if you can guess what happens next... there's a few clues dotted throughout the chapter, I think.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	15. Electricity & Rain

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Anxol and I looked at each other, fear clearly in our eyes. The screams did not stop; high and shrill. There was a crackling that seemed like a monster roaring beneath us, shaking the walls, our eardrums vibrating with the loudness of it. The screams mixed into the earth-shattering rumbling, like a horrible symphony. Then, all of the sudden, the stormy dark clouds outside turned a bright, blinding white.

For a split second, all I could see was a blinding white, making my eyes water with the intensity of it. Then, the whiteness faded back to grey; the noises stopping abruptly, as if someone had cut it off with a knife. I saw Anxol staring at me with pure terror in her eyes.

"What was that?"

"I don't know. We have to go see, though." I said, making up my mind. I would not sit and wait for news; I would rather go out there and search for it myself.

Anxol does not stop me.

"What about Donnie?"  
She was awake and staring at us with wide, blue eyes. The rumbling must've woke her up. But instead of crying or wailing, she simply stared at us with curious eyes, as if we would tell her the answer to the question she was silently asking.

"You take care of her. I'll go find out what's going on."

"No!" Anxol cried out, and I could see the fear growing rapidly in her eyes. It was bubbling inside of her, this hysteria - of what, I don't know - probably something she saw that I didn't. "I'm following you. Wheel and Axle, right?"

I took a look at my two sisters - one curious and confused, the other one panic-stricken and fearful.

"Alright, take her with us. Grab your jacket, let's go!" I directed, taking the position of a leader.

Anxol quickly rushed to grab her fur jacket, and I did the same. We wrapped Donnie in a pelt of warm fur and dashed out the door into the pouring rain.

The first thing that hit us when we left the house was the rain pounding on us and the sickening burnt smell in the air. For the rest of my life, I never forgot that smell.

We saw other neighbours running with the same confusion and panic in their eyes. We followed them, slightly slower, Anxol carrying Donnie and me waiting for them. We followed the people, making sure not to lose each other in the steadily increasing crowd.

They led us straight to the Lightning Bolt.

We squeezed our way to the front of the crowd, the raining pouring onto us, the burnt smell overwhelmingly strong now.

The screams were starting up again, mingled with voices of panic and disbelief. Murmurs and whispers arose, along with yells and sobs.

"The Electrical Centre's been electrocuted!"

**.**

Anxol's eyes were wide and filled with horror. Donnie swiveled her little head around, trying to see everything at once; still unknowing.

I grabbed Anxol's hand and pushed to the front of the crowd.

We were greeted by a revolting sight.

Bodies. Littered everywhere. Burnt, charred, black. Barely recognizable. But we could see the seal of the Capitol right above the seal of District 5 on the bodies' mangled clothing.

Workers.

Anxol let out a cry as soon as she saw the bodies. She pressed Donnie's head to her chest, shielding her from the sight of the dead bodies. I stood closer to her and wrapped my arms around her.

She turned to me, pale grey eyes swimming with tears, white-blonde hair plastered to face.

"We have to find mama and papa." She whispered hysterically. "We have to find them."

I felt like retching at the sight of the bodies; never have I seen death before. I wanted to cry out, also thinking about mama and papa, and I was just so worried. But I kept it in for Anxol; she does not need me to be panicked and fearful right now. I nod at her, unable to form any words.

We weaved through the increasing crowd, dodging the weeping and yelling citizens of District 5. Everything was chaos and noise; the terror in the air just as abundant as the rain that was continually falling.

We passed by worker after worker, stealing only a quick glance at some and staring for too long at others. The dead bodies almost seemed endless; so many people worked at the Electrical Centre.

And just the smallest amount of hope coursed through me; maybe they were alive, maybe they were just waiting with a relieved smile on their faces.

But then, I stop with a shuddering halt, the hand pulling Anxol falling limp to my side.

I stop and stare the two charred bodies in front of me, the air around me seemingly disappearing as I gasped for breath.

**.**

Charred. Burnt. Black. Dead.

I heard Anxol stop next to me in a grinding halt, a strangled sound leaving her lips, sounding like a mix between a scream and a cry.

And no, I could not be strong anymore. I couldn't be strong in that moment, couldn't hold it together. Not even for Anxol. Not as I stared at the dead bodies of my parents, falling to my knees in a puddle, one among the many that dotted the street.

I heard Anxol fall next to me, splashing droplets of rainwater at me as her knees hit the puddle.

"Mama?" I heard her whisper, her voice sounding strangled trying to hold the tears in. "Papa? Can you hear me?"

Neither of us say that it is pointless, it is clear that they are dead and will not come back home ever again.

Mama's eyes were half-open, her pale grey eyes glassy. Her hair was no longer a white-blonde, but a burnt black, floating in the puddle. Her skin was as black as night, with blisters showing raw skin. Her clothes were frayed and sooty, and she had a faint smile on her lips.

Papa was quite the same. But his eyes were closed, the small smile on his lips almost making it look like he was having a delightful dream. But his skin was burnt and blistering as well; unnatural and grotesque.

They were holding hands.

Their fingers were entwined together, clasped tightly despite the fact that they were just electrocuted. The smile on their faces are so terribly misplaced in this situation; making them look like they were happy in their last moments. But they shouldn't have been, because they were leaving their three children in a world that killed for fun and made us watch.

They shouldn't have been smiling.

"Mama. Papa. Mama." Anxol whispered, tears fully streaming down her face now. I could see her shaking, somehow still holding onto Donnie. "Mama? Papa?"

Numbly, I reached out for Anxol. She melted into my arms, Donnie squished in between us. She shook violently, sobs wracking her body. I could feel her tears seeping through my jacket along with the rain, her arms digging into me painfully, holding me too tightly.

I sobbed into her shoulder, my own tears mingling with the rain. I held her too tight as well, and I will not lie - I was not strong, was not solid - I was a broken as Anxol, as hurt, as heartbroken. I couldn't hold it together, couldn't pretend I was unaffected by the sudden loss of my parents, who were my own protectors.

Over and over again, Anxol choked out the same words.

_Mama. Papa. Mama. Papa. _

_I want to go home, Enkol. I want to go home, go home to the snow and to mama and papa._

_I want to go home._

**.**

Mayor Delan took one look at the bodies and at our broken, huddled forms, and he knew what had happened. He saw the whole district in panic and disorder, and I saw his eyes go wide and cheeks go ashen.

He helped Anxol and I up, Anxol still clinging onto me like a lifeline. I carried Donnie, my own tears blurring my vision.

As soon as we were on our two feet again, no longer kneeling in the puddle, Mayor Delan clapped my back reassuringly before leaving.

He mumbled them, but I still heard his words.

_This was just a warning._

**.**

We were all standing next to our loved ones; the ones alive giving us support and strength, and the ones dead that made us crumble to pieces. The metallic smell of the rain and the burnt skin smell lingered in the air, the rain seemingly endless. Everyone was sobbing loudly, tears streaming down everyone's eyes - we all knew it wasn't just rain. Next to us was the demolished Electrical Centre, pieces of debris everywhere, the building also burnt black.

Mayor Delan's voice carried through the rain, through the grief, through the loss.

"Citizens of District 5." He said - he didn't need a microphone for us to hear him - we all quieted and listened. "As you all know, today - tonight - a very tragic event occurred right in front of our homes."

He took a shaky breath, standing in the heart of the ruins. He did not need a podium or stage; he stood amongst us like equals. It was clear that it was as painful for him as it was for us; he was our mayor and he loved and cared for each and every one of us individually.

"The Electrical Centre experienced a malfunction, as it is so plainly seen." He gives out a broken laugh, and his voice projects to the farthest corners. "And hundreds of good men and women lost their lives today, providing for their families."

We all stared at him expectantly, waiting for our mayor to lead us. Anxol peered up from my jacket, her arms still wrapped around me.

"We will remember all they have done for us. For our district. They have made us proud and they have shown Panem how hard-working District 5 is. We will not forget them." Mayor Delan said solemnly, the rain pounding in the background. "We shall mourn our loss and grieve for our fellow citizens and family members. But together, we will pull through - as a district. We will need each other's support and help to recover from this terrible event, but we shall not let our fellow citizens down by giving up after their deaths."

Voices murmured in agreement, we could not sink to poverty like District 12. We were one of the districts that were well off, and we could not afford to slack off even after this horrible ordeal.

The Peacekeepers pushed us away from the bodies, roughly dragging us away to begin cleaning up. All of District 5 stood in cluttered bunch, huddling together in the pouring rain as the Peacekeepers pushed us away from the ones that we lost. Even Mayor Delan was forced to step back.

Anxol, Donnie and I were near the front of the bunch, tearstained and trembling. Mayor Delan, who was standing at the very front of the crowd, kissed three fingers, and arm outstretched, lifted his hand to the mass of dead bodies in front of us.

Anxol and I had learned from Jonah that this was Panem's sign of love. Of honor. Of thanks.

Of goodbye.

One by one, all of the citizens of District 5 crowded together followed in Mayor Delan's footsteps and did the same.

We kissed our three fingers and held it out the numerous dead bodies, lives that were lost today. Family. Friends. Loved ones.

My fingers shook, and so did Anxol's. But around us, everyone had tears trickling down their cheeks, sniffling. The rain continued to pour, but we all stood as still as soldiers, saluting the ones that died. The wind lashed at us, howling and whipping, but we were stones on the ground, unmoving in the grey world.

Everyone had hurt and pain in their eyes, and we stood together as one, united through our losses. Showing our love, giving respect, saying goodbye.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

The start of it all - the tragedies and terrible events. Well, I hope you guys don't mind sad chapters, because I'm doubting that they'll be any happy or fluff chapters anymore, even if I do want to incorporate it in. Sorry ):

But what did you think of this chapter? Anxol and Enkol are all alone now to raise Donnie by themselves ): I felt really terrible just writing this chapter out. But ah, it had to be done.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

As usual, the next chapter will be up tomorrow!


	16. Punishment

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Mayor Delan let us live in his house, at least for the time being. He sold our little house, and any other belongings that we had no more need for.

Anxol cried at night again. She wailed and screamed and thrashed; never at peace. She woke up with tearstains on her face and a haunted look on her eyes.

I couldn't sleep. I stopped sleeping. I stopped trying, because every time I did, all I saw was my parent's burnt body; mama's glazed eyes and Anxol's tears.

It was hard. Of course it was. It was hard on all of us.

Slowly, meticulously, District 5 picked itself back together again. The Peacekeepers burnt all the bodies and gave us jars of the ashes. We had a day where all we did was stay at home and turn on all the lights, as a reminder of the electrocution of the night. Anxol and I didn't have to attend any classes for the next three weeks. Jonah as well, since his father was one of the workers.

Things began to go back to normal. The Electrical Centre was in the beginning stages of rebuilding, and people returned back to their jobs.

But there was no denying the sunken cheeks in every citizen. The black circles underneath their eyes, the tangled hair, the haunted eyes. Everyone was affected, and everyone was hurting still. Even though we carried on with our day-to-day life, we all knew, when we returned to our homes, we let all of our emotions pour out, only to haphazardly fix ourselves up again for the next morning.

Donnie was quieter, but still smiled and squealed happily. She always had new places to explore and new things to observe, and she remembered nothing - a gift in this situation.

But Anxol became more reserved than ever. She didn't speak for the first week, only giving me glances that I had to decipher. She immersed herself in work; burying herself in studying and learning, trying to use formulas and patterns to erase the truth that hangs over us all.

And I was trying to hold it all together.

I cried when Anxol was having a nightmare, when she wouldn't see me. I played with Donnie and sang her the songs that mama used to sing, despite the fact that just singing the words brought pain to my heart. I held Anxol tight when she needed me to, and I gave her space when she wanted me to. I went to school and comforted Jonah, I went home and took care of Donnie and Anxol.

I had to hold it all together even though I was falling apart. I picked up the pieces and put them back together for everyone else.

But no one was there to piece me back together again.

**.**

"Enkol, I must tell you something." Mayor Delan said one day, three weeks after the terrible ordeal.

"Yes, Mayor Delan?" I turned around and faced him, hoping that he won't notice my bloodshot eyes.

"The accident... it wasn't an accident." He said, taking a seat. I took a seat in the chair across from his.

"What are you talking about?"

"The electrocution. It wasn't a mistake, or an accident. It was done on purpose." Mayor Delan said wearily. "It was planned."  
"By who? Do you know why? Why would they do that?" I had a million questions that I wanted answers to.

"I am assuming the Capitol, Enkol." He sighed, tired. "As for why, I have deliberated this for many days. Ever since the unfortunate event happened, to be exact."

He leaned in closer, and I could see all the creases on his forehead that were not there when I first met him.

"I believe that the Capitol has found out about you and your family, Enkol. They know that you have taken refuge in District 5, and they have punished us for taking you in."

I was silent for a moment, my fears being confirmed.

"What else do you know?"

"Ah, Enkol. Barely eleven years old and forced to be a man." He ran his hand through his tousled hair. "A good man, that's for sure. But you are still a boy, Enkol. There are some things I still cannot tell you."

"I am the head of the Enkeli family now, Mayor. I believe I have the right to know anything that could endanger the rest of my family." I said firmly, trying to hold back on any frustration I had. Why wouldn't he just tell me everything? I was perfectly responsible.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you the rest, Enkol. I have already risked much by telling you what I just did." He pauses for a moment, surveying my face. "You are worried for your sisters. That much clear."

Mayor Delan sighs, sits up, authority in his posture despite the circles underneath his eyes. I stand up as well.

"If it will make you feel any better, Enkol, I will have you know that I believe the Capitol does not know of you or your sister's existence yet." He says tiredly. "They merely know that an intruder has taken safety in District 5. That accident was only punishing us, the citizens of District 5, for letting you in."

I freeze, knowing the meaning of what Mayor Delan was saying.

"They have not punished you yet."

**.**

Mayor Delan's word sent a chill throughout my body; an invisible ghost that followed me everywhere.

That was not a punishment. That was only a warning of what was to come. What will the Capitol do when they realize that Anxol and I are alive?

I will protect Anxol. I will keep her and Donnie safe, and I will keep them alive.

I have to.

**.**

I did not want to go back to the classes again. Jonah was there, with his disheveled brown curls and empty eyes; his father one among the many that were lost that night.

"Hey, Enkol. How are things?" Jonah said, lacking the enthusiasm that he used to have.

"I've been better. How about you?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

"Things have been better, yeah." He turns to me, his brown eyes filled with sorrow. "Can we go to the Meadow today? I just... need to escape for a bit."

I turn to Anxol, whose eyes were glossy and unfocused, staring at the grey clouds outside as Professor Elwin spoke.

"Sure thing."

**.**

I dragged Anxol to the Meadow with us - quite literally. She swayed slightly, as she was being blown away by the wind. She didn't speak, only continued staring at the clouds in the same disturbingly unfocused manner. She laid down on the grass, staring up at the clouds as Jonah and I talked underneath the apple tree.

We avoided the subject of the Shock - that's what Mayor Delan called the incident with the Bolt. The Shock. A wake-up call. A warning that shocked us - to me, it made sense.

Jonah didn't mention my twin's sister state and I didn't mention his hysterical mother.

"I can't believe Professor Elwin gave us so many study sheets." I groaned.

"I know! It's unbelievable." Jonah agreed. "Maybe he'll forget to test us when the mighty Finnick Odair comes for the Victory Tour."  
"Don't even get me started." I pulled a face. "When's he coming to District 5 again?"

"Should be in a week. He just finished District 2, I think." Jonah answered, taking a bite of another apple.

I moaned again, covering my eyes. I didn't want to see the infamous Finnick Odair in person, not when all I see is him spearing the girl with his trident.

"Hey, he's going to Mayor Delan's, right? And you're staying there, right?" Jonah asks, with a bit of his old enthusiasm. "Maybe you could ask him to charm Professor Elwin from testing us!"

"Ha-ha, Jonah. He'd spear me before I got two feet in front of him." I said wryly. "Besides, Mayor Delan said that Anxol, Donnie and I will be moving out in three days. Says he found a house for us to live in."

"That's too bad. Do you think maybe you could ask Mayor Delan for his signature or something? We could sell it to the Capitol for some food!"

"I'm doubting it, Jonah." I said dryly. "But I guess you could always try."

"No way." He shook his head. "I'm always causing trouble. He's always chastising me whenever I see him."

"Do you think Finnick Odair's speech will be long?" I asked, closing my eyes, relaxing for a moment.

"I hope not. There's not much to say about us, is there? He don't know the tributes from 5, and we aren't close with him." Jonah answers lazily. "I hope he's not like that girl from last year. Going on and on about her kills. That's about the _last _thing we wanted to hear."

"I know. I really don't want to stand outside all day again, either." I said, watching Anxol grab for something that wasn't there. "I can't wait for this Victory Tour to be over."

Jonah watches Anxol too, her arms outstretched like a dancer. She leaps and bounds, as if she was chasing something. Then she spins around and falls to the floor once more.

"I can't wait for all of this to be over." Jonah says glumly.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Sorry for the strange-ish chapter. I was a bit off when I was writing this, and I'm pretty sure I just wrote out a chapter of nonsense.. Sorry. I got in a few points that were important, though - just not very well.. Sorry about that. I think the heat's kicking in.

Hopefully tomorrow's chapter will be better!

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	17. Distracted

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins****.**

* * *

Finnick's POV

Mags tell me that the Victory Tour will be quick. She sees my pain and understands.

For the past few months, things have been nothing but bitter. My family, shunning me as if I was a stranger. My district, avoiding me as if I was the Capitol itself. Nothing but bitterness and a sour taste in my mouth.

Mags gives me sugar cubes. They do nothing to sweeten the bitter feelings in my heart, but they remind me that there is still sweetness and kindness in this world.

Not now. But later, hopefully.

I stop by District 1 first. Mags helps me with the speech - she basically writes it herself. I do not know what to say to the people after they saw me turn on their tributes. Yet they are forced to welcome and love me despite the fact that I have killed two of their own.

It is the same for District 2. In District 3, their eyes are simply calculating and analytical, analyzing everything single move I make. It makes me as uncomfortable as the hateful stares from District 2.

At every district, they stare up at me with love, hate, disgust, or awe. All of these expressions sicken me, because they are all for the Finnick Odair that killed, and he is a monster that deserves no feelings in return - whether they be good or bad.

But in District 5, their eyes are all empty.

And I am glad.

**.**

Before we enter District 5, Mags tells me about the accident.

"The Shock, you see. District 5 had a major accident a few weeks ago and it killed many people." She explains. "We must be careful."

I was surprised. If District 5 had an accident that killed many people, wouldn't the Capitol broadcast it?

Mags must've saw the surprise on my face.

"Ah, Finnick. The Captiol cares not for the other districts." Mags said, shaking her head. "But we must learn to care for each other. It will do well for the future of District 4 if we are close."

I doubted that killing their friends would make me any closer to the districts, but I keep my mouth shut. Mags has been here longer than I have, and she is my mentor. She knows more than I do.

"Come on, my boy. I will show you the footage of the accident." Mags leads me to one of the back compartments of the train, guiding me.

Mags is the closest thing I have to family now, because she is the only one who still remembers a fragment of the boy I used to be.

**.**

"Where did you get the footage?" I ask Mags once we were settled down in front of the large television.

"Beetee gave it to me. The mentor for District 3." Mags explains, patting the space next to her. I sit down and she pats my leg. "He managed to hack into the Capitol's cameras and steal the footage before it was destroyed. He thought we should see it before we went to District 5."

I remembered the kind victor from District 3, who was friendly and intelligent. He made me feel comfortable amidst the calculating stares.

"Did you see it yet?" I ask Mags.

"Of course not. Why would I watch it without my boy?"

She smiles sadly before playing the footage.

The first thing I see is rain. Droplets falling, falling, falling. I can hear it splattering to the floor, landing on houses and buildings.

The big grey building in the middle looks normal. But then, suddenly, the building explodes in white lights - almost blinding me. There's screams and a large rumbling the background that pounds my eardrums.

And then it's over.

When the whiteness clears away, I can see what used to be the big grey building. Debris everywhere, wires snaked around on the ground, bent metal and broken glass. But the worst part of it was the bodies.

Bodies, everywhere. More than the bloodbath in the Hunger Games. More than I've ever seen. More than I ever wish to see. They are all charred and black; burnt almost beyond recognition. I feel sick just watching it.

I start to turn away, but Mags stops me.

"Be strong, my boy. If they can handle it, then so can you."

Tentatively, I turn back to the large screen. Mags holds my hand, like an anchor for me to hold onto.

People are starting to come out of their houses. Hesitant at first, not willing to go out in the rain, but curious to see what had happened. They walk out, take one glance at the broken building, and they go from walking to sprinting towards the burnt bodies.

Then, more and more people come out. Floods of floods of people, almost moving as one; all wearing grey. They look like a colourless wave.

Their screams and yells are panicked, filled with terror and fear. Everybody is charging out of their houses now, stricken; faces contorted in horror. They rush towards the bodies, wailing and crying, the rain still drenching everybody.

It seems like the whole district is gathered around the ruined building. Everyone is hysterical, searching for a loved one or grieving over their loss. Their wails and sobs pierce through the air, the pounding rain a drum beat to a terrible song.

And then, who I assume to be their mayor steps out. He does not stand on a podium or a stage, looking like any other District 5 citizen. But his words are ones of a leader, and his voice projects far for all to hear.

He gives a short speech about the losses and how District 5 will fix itself together. Everyone's eyes is on him, and they look to him with desperation and hope; that he will lead them back to the life they used to have.

But then the Peacekeepers push the people away from the dead bodies, some people fighting to stay by the corpse's side. In the end, everyone is pushed away from the corpses, standing in a large cluster together as the rain continues to fall.

The mayor is in the front of the crowd, all of them watching as the Peacekeepers start to gather the bodies.

The mayor lifts his hand, kisses three fingers, and holds them out to the dead bodies. Slowly, one by one, all of the citizens do the same - children with tearstained cheeks, women with puffy red eyes, men with their jaw set tight. In a minute, all of District 5 have their hands outstretched to the victims of this disaster, expressing their love, showing their thanks, saying their goodbyes.

Then the video ends.

Mags is the first to speak after watching this horrible, terrible, touching display.

"You have seen what the citizens of District 5 are like. Now it's time to write about them."

**.**

Mags helps me a little with the speech. She tells me write it by myself, because she doesn't want to help me with everything.

_That's my independent boy, _she had said. _You must learn to walk on your own in this world._

I growled in frustration as I threw away my fourth draft of the speech. It didn't sound right. There was only an hour before the train stopped at District 5, and I still had to let my prep team get me ready.

"I don't know what to write, Mags. Can you please help me?" I pleaded Mags. "Please?"

"Don't think your big green eyes can charm me, my boy." She says, smiling faintly. "I have already given you a few points you could mention."

"But you helped me for District 1,2, and 3." I pointed out.

"Those are the hard districts, Finnick. Of course I would help." Mags says, patting my had. "But this you must do yourself."

"I don't know what to say." I moaned. "Please, Mags."

"Just say it from your heart, my boy, and it will be all they need." She leaves before I could protest. "You have a good heart, and I know you can do it."

I stare at her retreating figure, stunned.

I didn't know monsters had hearts.

**.**

Before I go up to the podium in District 5, Mags smoothes my hair down and brushes away any dirt from my suit. She kisses both of my cheeks and pushes me to the stage, where all of District 5 is waiting.

I had spent half an hour writing a speech filled with sympathy that they wouldn't believe. Words that hold no meaning to them, they've heard it every year. I practiced it so many times that I felt like the words were drilled into my head, automatic.

My hands were clammy, and I could feel beads of sweat forming underneath the makeup they put on me.

Their eyes are all empty. It feels like I am staring through them, like they are not really here. Maybe they won't be paying attention to me. Good.

But as soon as I open my mouth, everyone's eyes flicker to me. I am Finnick Odair, the youngest victor, the handsome boy who won over the Capitol - how could I have even thought that they would ignore me?

"C-citizens of District 5." I start, stuttering slightly. I will myself to be the carefree, effortless boy I was when I was being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman. "Thank you for having me here."

Empty eyes staring at me, boring holes through my skull. All eyes on me. Except..

I see a boy on one side of the neatly divided crowd staring at a girl on the other side of the crowd. They both have shockingly white-blonde hair, something I have never seen before - except for on Capitol citizens - but these two had hair naturally that pale.

"Um, well, I'd like to say that you guys are all very brave. And hard-working. You have provided light for all of Panem, and I think that is an amazing task." I say, my mouth forming the words that I had practiced. They come out robotic, monotone, meaningless. I continue speaking, words spilling out of my mouth, staring at the boy and girl.

The boy is making silly faces to the girl; sticking out his tongue, pulling his cheeks, squinting his eyes. He does a ridiculous little dance on the spot, arms waving, hair flying. He stops as soon as the Peacekeeper passes by. The girl is simply staring at him with a blank, dazed look on her face. Her white-blonde hair is flying in the drafty District 5 air, and she looks at him with a disturbingly empty stare.

"I believe that you truly have an astounding mayor that is brave and just, and he has led you all very well." I say into the microphone, the words that I memorized spilling out of their own accord. I can almost imagine Mags watching me, wondering where all of my charm and enthusiasm went.

My mouth kept talking, but my eyes were watching them and their charade.

They almost seem to be speaking in a language of their own; a twitch of an eyebrow, the quirk of a lip. The boy would twitch his nose and the girl would reply with a bite of her lip. He would raise an eyebrow, and she would respond with the fluttering of her long eyelashes. They spoke to each other without any words, despite the fact they were on the opposite side of the crowd from each other. But always, always, the girl's eyes would go back to its unfocused state, her lips downturned. And the boy would see her, a troubled look in his eyes.

I was nearing the end of my speech now, the overly rehearsed words coming to the end of its stop. I was sure I sounded like one of those Capitol robots; words holding no feeling, voice sounding like a machine.

The boy finally pulls an absurd face and waves his arms as if he had no bones, and the girl giggles, the spell broken, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Her smile is bright and charming, and for that split second, the empty void was gone from her eyes. I can't help but to smile at her smile. The boy wears a satisfied, content grin on his face, but I can see the dark circles underneath his eyes and the sorrow and worry laced in his pale grey irises.

"Thank you for all you have done for Panem, District 5." I finish, ending my terribly written and performed speech.

The girl turns to me for the first time, and I realize in shock that the boy and the girls are twins - I have only heard of them, but never seen them before. They are identical - or as identical as a boy and a girl can be.

The girl's pale grey irises almost look white from the stage. They give me a pensive stare, her head cocked slightly to her side; strands of gossamer hair spilling onto her shoulder. Her lips are in a curious smile, and all I can think about in that split second is that _I took away her empty look and put a smile on her face. _

Her grey eyes pierce through me, and in that moment, I know that the girl sees me - actually _sees _me - in the way no one has ever since I won the Hunger Games.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Some Finnick for you! Yay! How did you like it?

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter will be up tomorrow!


	18. Worry

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Panem had no visitors.

So I was confused as to how we even managed to come to Panem in the first place.

Ever since Mayor Delan mentioned that the Capitol didn't know Anxol, Donnie and I didn't exist, I was curious and intrigued. How did the Capitol even manage to know we were here? How did they know we were here, but not exactly who we were? I just didn't understand.

So in order to figure out this strange puzzle, I had to start from the beginning - how we even managed to get into Panem without the Capitol knowing. How is it that they never figured us out, with all these Peacekeepers roaming around?

My parents knew the answer, for sure. And so did Mayor Delan. But my parents were dead and Mayor Delan didn't show any signs of telling me any more.

So I recruited someone I knew would help me.

**.**

"Jonah!" I called. "Want to help a friend out?"

"Well, what's it 'bout?" He asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It better not be sneaking into the labs in the middle of the night again; my ma's never quite forgiven me for that."

"Well... it's not the labs. And it's not in the middle of the night." I smiled mischievously. "Are you in?"

There is no hesitation with Jonah's reply.

"Sneaking around? Man, Enkol - do you not know the answer to that?" He grins deviously. "Count me in."

**.**

"Intruder! Intruder! I saw someone in border of the district, I _swear_!" Jonah pants, eyes wide and arms waving. "He was wearing a funny-lookin' hat and everything! I don't like the looks of him - he looks shifty."

"Where did you see him?" One of the Peacekeepers ask in a monotone voice.

"Follow me! Man, I don't like it! He looks like he was holding a gun like yours, sir!" Jonah squabbled.

"Show the way, lad." Another Peacekeeper booms.

Jonah nods and rushes off in the direction of the Meadow, but not before giving me a small wink.

I give him a quick thumbs-up and creep through the now unguarded door to the district's document dome.

It was a small dome, looking like a bump on the land, standing out in the groups of square and rectangular buildings. It held all the files and documents of every citizen in District 5 - I'm sure they had one in every district, restricted for the mayor only. Thankfully, I managed to swipe the keys to the door during a dinner at Mayor Delan's house.

I walked in, only to see rows and rows of file cabinets, much like the ones I saw in Mayor Delan's house. Quickly, I sneaked over to the nearest one. It was labeled with the letter 'A'.

I rushed to the file cabinet labeled 'E', and yanked out the drawer. I rapidly pulled through the numerous files, looking for the one marked with my family's last name.

Finally, I found it - the thickest file of the bunch, labeled in bold, big letters - 'Enkeli'. I grabbed it, closed the drawer, and dashed back outside, taking care to close the door again.

I dash over back to the abandoned lab behind Jonah's house. He's already there, a big smirk on his face.

"Says they'll be on the lookout for a mysterious man. They totally fell for it." He smirks like the cat who just caught the canary. "Did you get what you needed?"

I hold the folder up, my smirk that matches his saying all the words I need.

**.**

Inside the folder, there is around ten sheets of paper. I read through them all in the span of the next week.

I gathered all I needed to know. I shared it with Jonah, my partner in crime - how could I leave him out of something as important as this?

The answer lay in District 3. District 5 reached out and contacted District 3, asking for them to create four citizen identification cards for us. They did, and they set it into the Capitol's hardware files, listing us as citizens of Panem.

But somewhere, somehow, something went wrong. Maybe it was a glitch in the system, the cards creating an error on the Capitol's system, alerting the Capitol that someone was trying to add in a fake citizen card onto the hardware. That was my best guess, based on the scrawl that I came to recognize as Mayor Delan's on the page of our identifications - _error. _

There was another scrawl of writing on the page that documented our entry to Panem. Again, it was in Mayor Delan's writing.

_Peacekeepers witnessing the event have been taken care of._

I shivered slightly when I read that, as did Jonah. We both had no idea what it meant, but at the same time, all too knowing the meaning behind the short message.

When we were finished reading and digesting all the information on the files, we created another diversion - this time with the help of Donnie, who was more than willing to cry as loud as she could at the top of her lungs. I returned the file without anyone noticing, and sneaked back out of the document dome, my deed done.

But now, I had even more worries than before.

**.**

Anxol, Donnie and I now lived in a small house with another family - a woman named Jinlea and her son, Jackson, who was six years old. They had a fairly large house, and Donnie, Anxol and I shared one room. We had nothing to pay Jinlea back, but she said it was fine - Mayor Delan was a friend of hers that did her a large favour before, and now she was simply owing him back. But it didn't stop me from cleaning the house, or Anxol from cooking the meals. We both took care of Jackson and Donnie when Jinlea had to go to her job, and she was always welcomed home with a made bed and a warm meal.

She was a kind woman, who seemed like a friendly aunt to us. She tried her best to get to know us, though I answered most of her questions. Anxol began to talk more often now, but her eyes always seemed to see something I couldn't.

I began gluing the pieces of our lives together; a long and tedious task. I took care of Donnie, watched out for Anxol, and protected them both. I smiled and laughed for Anxol's sake, to try and show her that normalcy was acquirable, even when I knew it wasn't. I taught Donnie all I knew, played with Jackson, talked with Jinlea, cleaned and worked hard in my studies. I cuddled with Anxol at night and sang lullabies to Donnie before she went to sleep.

I tried my best to act normal despite the fact that I had the information and worries locked in my mind, driving me insane.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Argh, this chapter's a bit wonky.. And I know, it's pretty unrealistic at some parts. Sorry. My brain just can't think of an idea that's realistic right now to accommodate the main points I want to mention in this chapter ... yup, the heat's getting to me. But other than blaming the heat and not my lack of enthusiasm in writing this, I am really sorry. I feel like my quality of work is just slipping ):

Next chapter will be better? No promises, though.

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Please feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter posted up tomorrow!


	19. Strikeout

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

We were eligible for the Reapings.

Our twelfth birthday came by too soon. We didn't celebrate it.

We couldn't. Not when it was our first birthday without mama and papa, not when this birthday meant the possibility of death in a few short months.

Jinlea tried to cheer us up; buying us our favourite cake from the bakery, and for her, we ate it. But in the silence of the night, Anxol and I curled up together, tears streaming down our faces.

It's almost been a year since mama and papa died.

But the lack of their presence, the empty silence in the air from all they never told us, the hole in our hearts where they used to be, the chamber of all the happy memories we had driving us to madness; it was much too obvious every single day.

They may have died a year ago, but the hurt felt like a fresh wound that was opened just yesterday.

**.**

Donnie turned two years old. She could walk and talk in sentences, and she could count and mimic movements. Her eyes grew lovelier, her smile brighter, and she was still innocent. I wished that she could keep that innocence forever.

Anxol and I attended the Reapings for the first time. She shook and I held her hand tightly as we walked to the district centre, dressed in our finest clothes.

She took small steps, barely moving at all. When we saw the large screen and the podium with the jars, she completely stopped, frozen in fear.

I tucked a stray wisp of hair away from her face and gave her a comforting hug, hoping that she won't feel me shaking as well.

"Come on, Axle." I tried grinning, but we both saw that it wasn't right. "It's time to follow Wheel."

She gave me a small, sad smile, and I took her hand, leading her to the twelve-year-old pen. I kissed her on the forehead and smoothed her blouse.

"You'll be fine, Axle. We both will." I tried reassuring her. "I promise."

Anxol gave me a small nod before taking shaky steps to the girl's pen. I watched her slip into a space between two other twelve-year-old girls before going to the boy's pen myself.

"Oh, man, Enkol, you're here." Jonah smiled nervously, shaking. "I'm so nervous."

"There's nothing to be worried about." I said, glaring at the Capitol escort who was stepping onto the stage. "The Capitol's the one who should be nervous."

**.**

Anxol screamed.

She screamed and shrieked, and there was nothing we could do to silence her. When we watched the Hunger Games in Jinlea's cluttered basement, she would scream and scream and she wouldn't stop.

Jinlea would smooth her hair and I would hold her hand tight, but nothing could stop the strangled cry in her throat or the tears pouring down her face.

And as much as it hurt her to watch the Games, it hurt us even more to see her like this.

Broken. Defeated.

She curled up in a ball, and sobbed, rocking herself back and forth. She tried to cover her ears, cover her eyes, but we all knew she could still see and hear everything perfectly fine. Jinlea and I watched as my sister break every night, and there was nothing we could do to piece herself back together again.

She screamed at every death, flinched at every weapon, and trembled as the blood appeared on the screen. She couldn't handle it anymore; not without mama and papa here to protect her, not without them here to shield her from all the terrors.

I tried to fill in the void that they left, but we both knew that it was impossible. We were left alone in this world, only the two of us left from the white world.

Two little snowflakes in a world covered in blood.

**.**

Things seemed okay, almost, by the time we turned thirteen. Anxol seemed better, though she tended to zone out more. We no longer talked about home, or the white world - perhaps it brought up too many memories for her. She was fine, but she wasn't the same.

We were starting to acquire a routine, things starting to be a bit more normal. I joked around with her constantly to try and see her bright smile. I made Donnie play with her just so I could hear her musical laugh. I ruffled her hair and called her by my little nicknames, just trying to lighten the mood in the darkness that engulfed our world.

But always, _always, _the darkness that was the Capitol managed to steal away any normalcy, any hope for a new life, any light away from our lives.

When we are thirteen, Jonah is Reaped.

**.**

Anxol and I barrel into the waiting room, where Jonah is standing, brown curls dishevelled, eyes frantic and filled with fear.

"Jonah!" I cry out. "Jonah."

He envelops me in a large, bone-crushing hug. I hold him as tight as I can, and I can feel him wracking from his sobs, though I feel no tears.

When we pry ourselves away from each other, Jonah makes his way to Anxol, who was curled up in the corner. He gently lifts her up and gives her a hug. She wraps her arms around him and I can hear her soft whimpers.

"My ma and little brother just finished coming." He chokes out, and I can see tears swimming in his eyes. "I-I can't believe it. God, I just..."

"Don't." Anxol whispers, though her voice is stern. "Don't say you're not coming back, because you are."

Jonah only stares at her helplessly.

"Anxol, I wish I could promise you I could. Man, you're like my own little sister." He stares at her, the hope diminishing in his eyes. "But it's the _Hunger Games. _I can't do it."

"No, she's right." I say firmly. "You have to at least try. For us. For all of us."

Jonah stares from me to Anxol, then back to me again.

We stay like that for a few seconds, Anxol and I staring at Jonah with conviction in our eyes, and Jonah staring at the two of helplessly.

Then we all burst into tears and cling onto each other, because we just can't hold it in anymore.

"I'll try, I'll try, I promise I'll try." I hear Jonah's muffled voice say.

"Damn right you will, Jonah. You're my best friend and my guide here, and you're not leaving us that easily." I growl, tears flowing from my eyes.

I can hear Anxol's increasingly loud sobs, a touch of hysteria present in them.

"You two take care of each other, now won't you?" He wipes his eyes harshly. "I've taught the two of you well enough, right?"

"You've done better than anyone ever could." I choke out, wiping my tears away as well. "You're the best that we could've ever wished for."

Anxol clings onto Jonah like she'll never let go; wrapping her arms around him like some sort of tentacle.

"I wish I could stick around some more." He says, sadness completely taking over his brown eyes. "I wanted to see you guys change the world."

"I want you to be our sidekick." I try joking. "And I won't take no for an answer."

Jonah laughs brokenly and pulls me in for another hug.

"You'll be just fine without me." He whispers into my ear. "I'll tell your ma and pa you said hello."

Before I could respond, the Peacekeepers barge into the room and start pulling Anxol and I away from Jonah. Anxol screeches loudly, clawing at the man's face, kicking her feet violently, her white-blonde hair fully out of her neat bun and lying in tangles down her back. I try fighting the Peacekeeper, but he's too strong, and I am weakened by grief and hunger.

"Take care, Enkol." Jonah smiles sadly, eyes flickering to Anxol then back to me.

I try to capture Jonah's image in my head, but no - I do not want to remember him as this sad, defeated boy. The Peacekeepers whisk Anxol and I away from Jonah and drag us farther and farther away from him as he gets closer and closer to his death.

I try to conjure up the memory of the boy who talked too fast and had enough energy to power the Capitol. Who guided me and befriended both me and my eccentric sister. Who was my partner-in-crime and my confidant.

But we all grew up, I knew. The boy who had all the energy in the world was being shipped off to the Capitol where they would extinguish him permanently.

**.**

Jonah dies a week after the Games start.

He steps on a landmine and blows up, blood and flesh littering the ground like some sort of madman's art canvas.

Anxol screams; long, shrill, and loud. Her eyes are filled with hysteria and terror, and the tears coming pouring as if they'll never stop. She sobs and sobs and when her screams stop, she turned to frightened, heart-wrenching whimpers.

I can only stare at the projection in dazed fear. My best friend, the bright and energetic Jonah, blown up. There for one second and gone the next. Dead. So quickly, so soon. It was too fast, too easy, too disturbing.

The losses press down on my until I am unable to breathe. The victims of the Shock. Mama. Papa. Jonah.

Anxol is curled up in a ball in the corner, and I am staring into space, feeling helpless and useless.

The faces swirl in my brain like a tornado, blurring my vision. I can hear their voices, echoing in my ear. It even feels like they are touching me, soft fingers stroking my skin reassuringly.

The Shock. Mama. Papa. Jonah.

_This is the second warning._

The Shock was the first warning. Jonah's death was the second.

The third would be a strikeout.

* * *

And... cue the suspenseful music!

Thanks for reading! (:

What did you think of this chapter? Do you guys know what will be coming next? I know, I know - I'm dreading it just as much as you guys are.

HAPPY CANADA'S DAY TO YOU ALL! Even if you're not Canadian (: That's why I posted this chapter up earlier today. (awkward moment because I think I'm the only Canadian here... oh well.) Now, onto the fireworks and food!

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review or leave me a private message!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	20. Goodbye

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins. **

* * *

What I used to think was impossible was now all too real.

The odds are not in my favour, but it was never about the odds.

It was always about who the Capitol wanted to kill, who they wanted to pick out; like some sort of weed in the garden they called Panem.

We were their puppets and they controlled us.

But I was never theirs to start with, never theirs to own. They could string me up and try and make me do their bidding, but I would never give in to their controls. I will fight; fight for my freedom, fight for justice, fight for my family.

Someone had to protect Donnie and Anxol. Someone had to.

I would make sure of it, if it is the last thing I do.

**.**

I almost expected it.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. It was clear to me now, so blindingly obvious, that the Capitol knew of our existence now. And if they knew of our existence, then they knew about our ways. They knew what would break us the most, and what makes us weak.

They would pick me off first, and make Anxol watch. They know that this will break her to pieces, and they know that this will all the more entertaining to watch when the Reap her a year after I die. They know that by making me wait and know about my twin sister's definite fate, while being completely powerless to stop them, will be what causes me the most grief. They know, and the plan it all out.

Oh, yes, it would be fun as well to have a pair of twins fight in one year. Wouldn't it just be _grand? _A storyline to go with this horrible plot they have planned out.

But no, the Capitol is playing with us. They are toying with us, and it's not just about the ratings of the Games anymore. It's not about what the citizens think, or pulling at the heartstrings at someone.

It's about punishment. It's about completely shattering us to pieces and teaching us a lesson that we will never forget. It's about causing us as much pain as possible; by picking us off one by one, making us watch as we stand there, helpless. It's about leaving us in survivor's guilt, and not letting us be able to commit suicide in the Games as soon as one of us die - we must suffer for days and nights until the grief completely overwhelms us, driving us mad.

It's about teaching us pain, and showing us the true wrath of the Capitol.

That's why I walk into the Reapings of the 68th Hunger Games with a grim smile on my face.

**.**

They call the girl's name first. It is not Anxol. It is some seventeen-year-old with ropy brown hair and fearful doe eyes.

They call my name next.

I step up onto the stage, making sure to plaster an easygoing grin on my face. I will not let the Capitol see me with my head down, fear in my eyes for what they could do to me.

My eyes never leave Anxol. Her mouth is open in shock, and I can see tears starting to fall from her pale grey irises. Her eyes are filled with fear and horror, and I can see her breathing heavily, as if she was hyperventilating. I can see her bordering on hysterics as the Capitol escort speaks, and I try to smile at her reassuringly, though I know it's no use. She bites down on her fingers hard to keep herself from screaming, and I can see her other hand clawing at her face, eyes pleading me to come down from the stage and tell her it's all just a big joke.

But it's not, and I wish I could rush down from the stage to hold her close and wipe away the tears that are rapidly falling from her eyes.

The Capitol escort leads me to the Justice Building, where I will wait for visitors. Her touch feels dirty, and I want to scratch the skin off the place where her disgusting fingers touched me.

Anxol bursts into the room almost seconds after I enter it myself. She flings herself at me and knocks me off my feet, the both of us landing on the ground. She pays no mind to this and only clutches at me tightly, sobbing into my neatly pressed Reaping shirt.

"Enkol...lead...follow...Axle...Donnie." She chokes out in between her sobs. "Home...mama...don't..."

_Don't leave me here all alone and go to mama and papa, who are waiting for us back at home in the bottom of the sea._

I only pet her hair softly and hush her soothingly.

"Anxol, you have to be strong. For Donnie. You have to take care of Donnie." I say seriously, staring into the face that was identical to mine. "Promise me you'll be strong?"

"Promise me you'll come back home?" She whispers into my shirt.

I laugh bitterly.

"I guess we'll both try, then."

She only curls up into me, arms wrapped tightly around me. I hold her close, as if my body could still shield her from all the terrors, all the nightmares, all the dangers.

"You're the Wheel and I'm the Axle. I'm supposed to follow you." She whispers softly. "Where am I supposed to go now?"

"You'll find your own way, Annie-bird." I say, thinking of how Donnie called Anxol 'Annie'. "You'll be a little birdy that makes her own path and flies away."

"But I want to keep on following you." She whimpers sadly. "I want to stay with you forever. We're supposed to, remember? We're the same person."

"You'll make your way in this world, Anxol. I just know it." I whisper. "You'll change Panem without me."

She only looks up at me with puffy red eyes, tears seeping out of them.

"I love you, Enkol."

"I love you, too, Anxol."

I smile sadly and kiss her softly on her forehead, brushing stray locks of hair away from her face. She closes her eyes and shakes, as if she was trying to go to sleep and pretend it was all just a dream when she opened her eyes again.

When the Peacekeeper comes to take her away from me, she clings onto me tighter.

"Stay strong, Anxol. I love you." I whisper into her ear for the last time. "I'm so proud of you."

I hand my twin sister to the Peacekeeper, who stares with soulless eyes. I detach her from me, and the Peacekeeper carries her away.

The door closes, but I can hear her screams for miles.

**.**

Mayor Delan is the next visitor, carrying Donnie in his arms.

He gives me a sad smile and hands me Donnie. I cradle her gently and she reaches out for me, a sweet smile on her red lips.

"I guess you've figured it all out now, Enkol." Mayor Delan says sadly.

"I think I have, Mayor." I turn to him, still holding Donnie. "Thank you for all you have done for my family. I'm sorry for all the trouble we've caused you and your district."

"Don't be sorry, Enkol." He answers, staring at Donnie and I. "It was the right thing to do."

"You're a good man, Mayor Delan." I smile sadly.

"So I've been told." He laughs, but there's no happiness in it. "And you are a brave boy."

"Thank you."

"Ah, before I forget, my dear boy, there is something I want to give to you." He fishes something out of his pockets. "I want you to take it with you as your token."

"What is it?" I ask, craning my neck to see, curious.

"It was something your parents gave me. As a token of thanks." He answers, sorrowful. "And now I give it to you as a token of..."

"A token of death." I finish glumly. "A token to take with me as I die."

"Now, now, Enkol. No need to be so upset when you haven't even seen it yet." He says, pulling it out of his pocket. "I like to think of it as a reminder. A reminder of what you had, and what we should strive to achieve."

It was a beautifully hand carved wolf, made from wood. I recognized my father's sharp knife strokes, and the smell of the wood reminded me of the trees next to my house, of woodcutting and of snow. It was almost as if I was back home, bursts of memories blooming in full colour.

"Peace." I smiled. "A reminder of what I had. Peace. Happiness. Justice."

"Precisely, Enkol. It is all I have ever wished for." Mayor Delan watches me with a small smile on his face.

He checks the pocket watch in his belt, and frowns at it.

"Oh dear. Looks like we haven't got much time left." He says, eyes darkening with sadness. "Do you have anything to say to your sister before I whisk her away?"

I hold Donnie for the last time and cuddle her, letting her happy squeals fill my ears.

"I love you, Donnie. Be a good girl." I whisper into her ears, knowing that my smart, beautiful little sister will understand my words. "Be my smart, genius girl."

"Bye-bye, Bubba!" She crows happily, completely unknowing. It takes all that I am to hold in the tears; first Anxol, now Donnie. I am on the edge, close to tipping and falling over.

Mayor Delan watches us sadly, and I hand Donnie back to him, ruefully, not really wanting to let go.

"I promise that I will do all I can to take care of your family, Enkol." He stares at Donnie and smiles when she giggles.

"Why, though?" I ask curiously. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"Ah, Enkol. Why did I guess that you were going to ask that?" Mayor Delan sighs, sorrow in his eyes. "You wonder why an old fool like me would take care of these strangers he doesn't even know."

I stare at him expectantly, waiting for answers.

"It was hope, Enkol." Mayor Delan answers, standing up. "Hope. It is the one thing that I know would overcome the fear so abundantly found in Panem."

He gives me another sad little smile before turning to the door.

"Good luck, Enkol." He says, watching me with fatherly eyes.

"Thank you, Mayor. For everything."

He gives me a small little nod before exiting the room, leaving me all alone once again.

I take a deep breath of the stale, musty air of District 5 for the last time, trying to take everything in and calm my racing nerves.

But nothing can prepare me for my inevitable death, looming over me like a shadow in my last days.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I forgot to mention, in the last chapter how sorry I am for killing Jonah. He was one of my favourite characters, and though he wasn't mentioned much, I did learn to love him. ): And I really didn't want to kill him off, but kind of had to as a warning to Enkol from the Capitol. So I just wanted to say sorry for that.

Also, I would also like to say sorry if this chapter was a bit rushed with the goodbyes and the Reapings. I had a lot I wanted to incorporate into this chapter, and I kind of just threw it all together. I would've expanded a bit more, or even split it into another chapter, but since we're already at chapter 20 (eek!), and I still have a lot more things to cover, I didn't want to drag out the story with details. Like, you know, one of those stories that go on for like 62 chapters... I'm quite content with staying under 25, so that's my goal. Sorry again ):

Anyways, so we've reached the beginning of the end! (I've just always wanted to say that - or write that). I probably won't go in-depth into Enkol's Games like I did in Anxol's, or else if I did, I'd have to create a whole new sub-story. After all, I needed one whole sub-story for Anxol's Games. So I'm just going to condense it into a few chapters, just as a heads up.

Any questions? Comments? Feedback? Suggestions? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next chapter up tomorrow!


	21. Deal

Finnick's POV

I am sickened by the Capitol. Everything they do, everything they say; even how they look. It disgusts me.

I watch the Reapings. I process all the tributes in my mind; I will not begin mentoring until next year, but Mags says I'm here to 'show me the ropes'. What I don't add is that I am only here to satisfy the Capitol citizens.

I've been doing it for one year now, and I cannot rub the sick feeling off my skin. My stomach does not stop churning, and whenever I look into a mirror, I want to throw up. I feel even less human.

Everything about the Capitol is repulsive.

The tributes arrived days ago, and have just begun training. They are always, always the same - large Careers and starving poor districts.

But the shock of white-blonde hair surprises me. The boy, who at my Victory Tour, was trying to communicate with a girl - his twin sister - across the crowd without even speaking. I had completely forgotten about this strange pair, but his shocking white-blonde hair brings back the faded memory.

He watches me, pale grey eyes grim and serious. They hold no fear, only determination. They study me, and I feel uncomfortable, exposed, as if this boy was judging me, or calculating my every move.

But the memory of this boy pulls back the faded picture of his twin sister from my memory, and how her pensive eyes looked at me and saw me for who I really was.

**.**

He gets a six in his training score. His grinning hologram is the exact opposite from how his eyes look at me. It unnerves me, how this boy - Enkol Enkeli, his name was - stares at me whenever we pass.

At the interviews, he is charming and funny. He jokes around with Caesar effortlessly, and captures everyone's attention - especially at one part.

"So, Enkol, is there anyone waiting back at home for you?" Caesar asks, raising his electric green eyebrow.

"I've got two lovely ladies waiting for me back at home." Enkol answers, flashing an easygoing grin to the audience.

"Two ladies? My, Enkol, you're quite the player!"  
Enkol laughs, a laugh that seems so carefree and joyful - but I know it's just for the show.

"My two sisters." He answers, grinning once again. "They're the only two girls in my life."

"Ah, so I see. And what does your mother think about that?" Caesar asks, smiling.

He's silent for a second, a pause, a hesitation.

"There used to be three girls in my life." He pauses for a split second. "But my mother passed away three years ago."

The whole audience 'aws' and makes _tsk_ing noises, shaking their heads as if they understood his situation.

She probably died from the Shock; I remembered seeing the tape. The stormy night, the deaths.

"I'm so sorry, Enkol. You still have two lovely ladies waiting for you back at home, though, am I correct?" Caesar asks, his tone sombre, but quickly brightening the mood. "What are their names?"

"The youngest is Donnie. She's four years old right now." Enkol smiles faintly, but his smile is sad. "And the second is Anxol. She's fourteen - she's my twin sister."

Everyone _oohs _and _ahh_s, completely missing the point of the sentence. The boy is fourteen, has no mother - and possibly has no father as well - has to support his four year old sister, care for his twin sister, and now he's forced to play in these Games that will probably leave him dead, and leave his two sisters all alone. And yet, the Capitol is only awed at the fact that they are twins - uncommon in Panem.

They don't understand. Oblivious. Sickening. Disgusting.

"Twins, now you say!" Caesar exclaims. "I am positive that you will win for your two sisters, am I right?"

"Of course I will." Enkol smiles, but there's a grim determination in his eyes.

The crowd cheers and whoops, a new twist to the story to make it all the more exciting, but they don't truly see the depth of his story.

When Enkol passes me, his grey eyes look up to meet mine. But instead of that analytical look in his pale grey irises, his eyes are troubled.

**.**

The night before the Games, I am sleepless. I wander around the Training Centre, wanting to move. I don't want to be enclosed in the fourth floor, where the female tribute stares at me with lustful eyes.

I hear quiet footsteps behind me, and I whirl around, only to see the male District 5 tribute - Enkol.

Has he been following me?

"What do you want?" I growl, sick of his calculating eyes. I don't want to remember them when he dies, do not want to see them in my nightmares.

"Follow me." He says simply, not answering my question.

I eye him suspiciously.

"Come on, Odair. I'm not going to kill you. You're a victor, and I'm a tribute. You're a Career, and I'm lowly district scum." He says, exasperated. "The odds are _completely _in your favour right now."  
I decide that I like the sarcasm in his voice, the way he outright says the truth without any fear in his tone.

"You can even bring a knife with you, if it makes you feel any better." Enkol rolls his eyes. "But I, for one, would not be touching anything made in the Capitol."

He spits out the word _Capitol, _like it has a bad taste in his mouth.

I like much more now.

I give him a small grin and follow him.

He leads me to a small, deserted room, with only one table and a few chairs. It was the room where Mags negotiated with the other mentors about an alliance.

Enkol sits down, and I do the same.

"I have a proposition for you, Finnick Odair." He starts off, all business.

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, ready to hear what he says.

"I want you to protect my sister."

"What?" I say, completely taken aback. I was expecting some sort of alliance request or something.

"Protect. My. Little. Sister." He says, pronouncing each word slowly. "Keep her safe."

"B-but why?"

His eyes darken, the pale grey turning into a stormy black.

"The Capitol is planning to kill her. I know it. I'm going to die, and so is she. It's too late for me, but she's still got some time. _I want you to protect her._"

"_What_?"

He sighs deeply and rolls his eyes.

"Let's start from the beginning, then."

**.**

He tells me everything. About his family, about where he came from. He gives me these vivid descriptions and chokes on his words when he tries describing his home. He tells me about his parents, burnt black. He tells me about his twin sister, and how she screams and stares into nothing.

I don't believe him. I can't, it's not possible. There's no way they could've came from somewhere else. This is all just some sob story to get him into an alliance with District 4.

"You don't believe me." He finishes simply, catching my look.

I shake my head, my mouth failing me.

Enkol pulls something out of his pocket, and I tense. And then I see what he's holding out for me to see. It's a handcrafted wolf, every detail meticulously carved out.

"I'll bet you've never seen wood like that." He says lazily. "Not even in District 7."

I glare at him, but he's telling the truth. The wood is a strange pearly beige colour, and is much smoother than any wood I've ever seen. It smells like ashes and ice - a strange combination, especially for wood.

"Twist the head open." Enkol urges me.

Tentatively, I do. Out tumbles out hundreds of small rocks.

In a closer inspection, I realize that they're not rocks - but jewels. Tiny little gems no bigger than the cuticles of my nail, see-through and glistening even in the dim lighting of the room.

"What is this?" I whisper in awe, examining the tiny jewels.

"We call it crystal sand." Enkol smiles at my awestruck expression. "It's found back in my home."

I can hear the longing in his voice as he speaks of his old home. Of the place he left.

"I bet you can't find it anywhere in Panem." He whispers, challenging me. "Not even you, the mighty Finnick Odair, can find it anywhere else."

I look up from the miniscule crystal to glare at him, though I know that what he's saying is true. I've never seen it before; not in any district, not in the Capitol - and trust me, I've seen all there is to see in Panem. If any place had these crystals, they surely would've been mentioned.

"Do you believe me now?" He breathes, a touch of desperation in his voice.

The exotic look that he and his sister both have. The crystals. The hauntingly vivid description that was so real and honest that it couldn't have been made up. It's farfetched and completely _insane_, but my mind cannot think of another explanation.

Slowly, I nod.

**.**

I just want to feel human again. I want to be able to feel something besides the revolt and disgust in my stomach, and I want to feel love and care and happiness. I want to feel like I am helping, and not just some sort of useless rock that does no good in shielding the ones I love the most.

"Please, just protect my sister." Enkol pleads. "That is all I'm asking of you."

"Why should I?" I ask, stubborn. Selfish. Still in disbelief.

Enkol advances towards me, eyes dark again. Despite the fact that I am twice as wide as he is, two heads taller, three years older, and have a body count, Enkol scared me.

"You," he growls, "are different. You are caring, and you are the one who will actually _believe _me. You understand."

"You have kindness and mercy in you. You are gentle with others, yet I know you are strong. You are protective and you are loving." Enkol continues, his voice softening, despite the fact that he pokes my chest for emphasis.

"You know, I've been looking for someone who could take care of my baby sister. I've been watching you, and you know that." Enkol growls, but I can see tears starting to form in his eyes. "I love her, and I need someone to protect her when I can't. You have no idea how much I'm risking for her; absolute _no idea _how big a leap of faith I am taking by trusting _you_, the playboy Finnick Odair, with the one person on the earth that I have left."

I think about my own little sister, baby Bea, whose green eyes are almost identical to mine. I think about how I caused her death - hers and Casper's and pa's. I think about how much I love Bea, and if I was in Enkol's shoes, knowing all that he knows, I would do the same. I think about the desperation and the fear, and I realize - Enkol and I are more alike than we thought.

I think about Bea's dying eyes that I caused and of Anxol's pensive eyes that saw me when no one else did.

"You are a good person, whether you believe it or not." Enkol says softly. "And most importantly; unlike everyone else here, you have a heart."

Funny. I thought I was the only one who didn't.

"So _please. _I am _begging_ you to just do this one thing for me." He gets down on his knees, a final sign of defeat, eyes filled with desperation. "Just please, protect Anxol."

I stare at this boy, who is so much like me, yet so different. The boy who would do anything for his sister, who had the weight of the truth on his shoulders. Who will die in a few days, and knows it. Who put his sister ahead of his own life, and only wants her safety. She lives, unknowing, because he protects her from everything - even the truth that he knows will drive her mad.

Enkol loves his sister, and his love is something I admire. I envy.

And I believe his words. And I hope, that maybe, this will balance out all I have done.

"I promise."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Quick message, since I'm in a rush - sorry about the really rushed chapter and pretty terrible explanations. Sorry!

Managed to post a chapter up today! I almost thought I wouldn't be able to make it since something pretty big came up, but here it is! Kind of doesn't matter since the chapter stinks, but better than nothing!

Okay, thanks, bye! Next chapter tomorrow!


	22. Death

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Death is as black as night.

It is a veil, draping over me as I leave. But it is not gentle, not soft. It is rough and scratchy, and the veil of darkness threatens to suffocate me as I drown in the black nothingness. I struggle, but the more I move, the harder it is to breathe.

The dark veil shifts back and forth, and sometimes it is dark, and sometimes it is light. It makes my eyes hurt.

My blurry vision and dizzy head makes out a camera through the darkness. A camera disguised as a rock, just a meter away from my face. And then I remember.

Camera. Televised. Fight. Death. The Hunger Games. The lightning bolt. Anxol watching.

She is watching as I fight a losing battle, and I have to say something to her. A last bit of advice, my last act of courage; hope to keep her alive as I die.

The words are stuck in my throat, and the sentences that I plan out come out wrong, words missing. It takes all of my effort to get the words out, and I have to stop moving, stop fighting, to relay the last bit of support to Anxol.

As I speak, the darkness pulls me under. I no longer fight it.

It hurts. Some say that death is numb, and if I had the energy to, I would've slapped these people.

_Death is numb. _What kind of lie was that? Some sort of balm to soothe death? It is a lie. Death is painful in every way; shooting, twisting, stabbing, ripping, tearing, shredding. Physically and emotionally.

I can feel death enter me like some sort of contaminant, and I can feel it spreading through my body. The electric currents that rippled violently through my veins don't stop, and I bite back a scream. I will not let them hear me scream. They fry my insides, and all I feel is heat. Heat like needles stabbing into every pore of my skin, shredding me from the inside out.

The burnt smell of human skin reaches my nose. It is the same smell that I smelt so many years ago, the night of my parent's death. I makes me want to gag, but I can't find the energy to.

I struggle to hold on, but it's a half-effort struggle. I don't want to feel the electric currents anymore. I don't want to smell the burnt flesh. I don't want to feel this dizziness, this sickening wave that goes through my body. I don't want the pain, and I don't want the suffering.

But I think about Anxol back at District 5, and how she must be surely watching. I think about how I am her strong brother, and how I must always protect her. I have to be there for her, and I have to at least try to hold on for a second longer - to relive the memories, to remember her face, to try and recall her smile. Everything is screaming for me not to, but for her, I hold on a little longer.

But even the most stubborn - or is it foolish? - people have to let go. I have to let go and fall into the darkness that is waiting for me. All the strength in the world, all the hope in this life, could not keep me holding on any longer.

I slip under the darkness, my body broken, the pain fresh. Everything is screaming to me, and yet the silence that I hate is all too present.

I thought that the shadows that pulled me under would engulf me like the veil, drowning me.

It is only dark for a few seconds. Then everything is white; a blinding, beautiful, pure white.

I see snow, and pale blue skies. I see belladonnas and the frozen pond. I see the stones houses and candles flickering in the window. The ocean is at bay, and is singing a lullaby that is sweeter than sugar.

I have come home.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

And yes, supremely short chapter, I know. But I didn't want to ramble on like I normally do, and I wanted to keep it short and sweet to all the American readers who are celebrating the Fourth of July so that they can enjoy their celebrations instead of sitting down and reading some random person's fanfiction (: Happy Fourth of July to you all!

The end is almost here! This is the second-last chapter to this sub-story, since I had to wrap it up really quick (sorry, sorry), I didn't want to dwell too much on Enkol's Games, since we all know how that ends (nooo). So yup, the next chapter will be the last for this sub-series!

And not to fear (though this piece of news might incite more fear), there is another sub-story coming up! Yes, another one (I just can't stop!) It'll be one for Finnick and Anxol's life, post-Mockingjay. More details in tomorrow's chapter (:

Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? Feedback? Feel free to leave it as a review!

Next and final chapter up tomorrow!


	23. Mission

Thanks for clicking & hopefully reading!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

Finnick's POV

As he watched me, I watched him.

I didn't watch the District 4 tributes. I watched the boy that I made a promise to; a boy who was the bravest person I will ever know. The boy, who, in another world, could've been my friend.

Enkol ran away from the Cornucopia, getting nothing. The swamp arena for the year was deadly, but he hunted for animals. He built a fire, and he smiled to the sky as he did, almost as if he was showing Anxol that he was perfectly alright.

He hid and gathered for food, and did not have a body count. He didn't kill and avoided it; running silently when he encountered a tribute.

Cannons rung, but his never did. He worked by himself, and every night, he would sing softly to the sky as if it was a lullaby that would rock his baby sister to sleep.

I thought he was going to win. He was so close, only one more left. He had to kill, and he looked like he was going to. He had made up his mind. One kill over returning home to his sisters. It was an easy choice.

As soon as he had a glimmer of hope, it was extinguished.

He was right. He knew he wasn't going to go home, and he knew that the Capitol wasn't going to let him. He knew the Capitol was going to kill him, then kill his sisters next.

And in the end, the Capitol did kill him.

It was bright, almost like a final show. A bright, blinding lightning bolt that was ten times stronger than any natural lightning bolt. It should've killed him on the spot - it hit him directly - but he held on. For her. I admired his perseverance and drive, and I hoped that one day, someone will love Anxol as much as Enkol did. And deep in my heart, I wished that someone could love the monster that I've become as unconditionally as Enkol loved his sister.

It was painful, watching Enkol hold on when he was so obviously dying. I thought about his twin sister back at home, and how Enkol described her - utterly fearful of the Games, and completely empty afterwards. If this is my reaction, if I am troubled watching this - the stranger victor who has killed himself, who has seen death centimeters away from his face - then how is his damaged twin sister handling this?

When his cannon finally rung, it felt like it was a final, definite end. I heard Caesar's voice announcing the surprised District 2 boy as the winner, but it was all background noise.

It was all too easy to die. I thought about Enkol, and how in the end, he completed his goal - finding someone to keep his sister safe. It never was his intention to live. His intention was to protect what he valued, and to make sure the Capitol never took away what he had.

I thought about his determination and the desperation in his voice. I thought about the crystal sand and the love when he spoke about Anxol.

I would not let him down. He deserved at least that much.

And I knew, that somewhere in this world, at this very moment, there was a girl with gossamer white-blonde hair and pensive pale grey eyes, screaming as her world shattered to pieces.

And I knew that it was now my job to piece her back again, build her into a masterpiece and protect her with my life.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Another sub-story done.. wow. Time really does go by fast. Thankfully there's one more sub-story left!

A massive, massive, THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed! If I could, I would hug you all. Thank you all for reviewing so much, it really does make my day (: Thank you if you have put me on author alert or as a favourite, or if you put my story on alert or as a favourite. If you are reading these words, THANK YOU (: I greatly appreciate you taking your time out to follow my story!

The next and final sub-story will be posted **tomorrow****, **and it will be called **Puzzle Pieces, **so keep an eye out for that! It's the epilogue story for the whole series, and if you want to refresh your memory about it, then you can read the epilogue chapter for 'Broken Wings'. (four for you if you caught the Josephine reference!)

Sorry for the immensely short chapter and massively long author's note. Whoops. Sorry.

Until tomorrow!


End file.
